Dear Santa Claus
Posted 12-03-2008 at 11:37 AM by mistyinca
DEAR SANTA CLAUS, by Misty Simon
Dear Santa Claus,
It has been a long time since I last wrote a letter to you, so allow me to re-introduce myself. My name is Misty. I am now 38 years old, and I am married with two teenage boys, and we are residing in southern California in an unincorporated portion of Riverside county, commonly referred to as “Eastvale.” You may remember me. The last time I wrote to you, I scribed my wishes in pencil on paper, and I believe I may have asked for a “Pink and Pretty Barbie.” I remember that one especially because it was the one toy that my heart desperately longed for yet I never did receive. I am sending this year’s letter to you via e-mail, and I hope that you check your spam folder, as I suspect my current email is not already in your address book. I would send you a text, but I am on a budget these days, and I cannot afford your $.99 per message charge.
During the past two and a half decades, I have often wondered what has happened to Christmas. Its sentimental meaning, much like my husband’s hairline, has, sadly, continued to recede over the years. And what I am left with these days is the ever-present question: why do we continue to bother with what has become a chore, a hassle, and an expense that we cannot afford? I used to feel that deep down below the decked and dazzled, decorated surface dwelled a wondrous significance to it all, and that there was the sense that everyone around the world felt the same way. As we would joyously regale with the tidings of the season—exchange gifts, bake Christmas cookies, listen to the nostalgic crooning of carols from our youth—we could at least pacify ourselves with the notion that we were performing for something much more grand than the shimmering tree before us.
But as the years go by at an ever-accelerating megahertz, I find the ability to intuit a deeper meaning to the frivolous yuletide festivities increasingly difficult. It seems that Holiday Spirit and Joy is not something that I can purchase at Amazon.com and have delivered to me with free shipping. Perhaps I missed the highlighted hyperlink for Christmas Spirit somewhere on the internet. I do sense the same longing in the faces of the people around me as I wander the aisles of stores during “The Biggest Holiday Sale Ever” looking for this spirit, and they seem to be searching for it too. Is that it, over there on the high shelf, just beyond our reach? I wonder if it is because, in our over-commercialized culture, we expect it to be packaged in shiny shrink-wrap with an ingredient label describing its contents. I could ponder the reasons for my recent sense of despondency towards the holidays deep into the hollow abyss of eternity, but I digress…
The reason I am writing to you today, Santa Claus, is because I would like to ask you for something, and since I never did receive that “Pink and Pretty Barbie” at age thirteen when I last wrote to you, I kind of feel like you owe me one.
What I would like for Christmas this year is this: I want to once again feel the joy of the season, as I did many years ago when I was a child. But this is one that I’d like everyone to share in. So please give me, my family, and all the people of the world, for whom this hectic holiday has lost any sense of poignancy the sense that it isn’t all for naught. Regardless of personal, philosophical, and religious beliefs, please give us all that holiday joy—that brewing build-up of anticipation and excitement, that something spectacular is going to happen really really soon! It does not have to come with free financing for six months. It does not need to come via text, email, or UPS. I want to see it in the faces of my family and friends and neighbors and people on the streets. I want us to feel it this year and every year as we remember all that we have to be thankful for and that Christmas cheer does not have to cost any more than the small effort it takes to simply smile and say to each other “Happy Holidays.”
Yours Truly,
Misty
©2008 Misty Simon
Dear Santa Claus,
It has been a long time since I last wrote a letter to you, so allow me to re-introduce myself. My name is Misty. I am now 38 years old, and I am married with two teenage boys, and we are residing in southern California in an unincorporated portion of Riverside county, commonly referred to as “Eastvale.” You may remember me. The last time I wrote to you, I scribed my wishes in pencil on paper, and I believe I may have asked for a “Pink and Pretty Barbie.” I remember that one especially because it was the one toy that my heart desperately longed for yet I never did receive. I am sending this year’s letter to you via e-mail, and I hope that you check your spam folder, as I suspect my current email is not already in your address book. I would send you a text, but I am on a budget these days, and I cannot afford your $.99 per message charge.
During the past two and a half decades, I have often wondered what has happened to Christmas. Its sentimental meaning, much like my husband’s hairline, has, sadly, continued to recede over the years. And what I am left with these days is the ever-present question: why do we continue to bother with what has become a chore, a hassle, and an expense that we cannot afford? I used to feel that deep down below the decked and dazzled, decorated surface dwelled a wondrous significance to it all, and that there was the sense that everyone around the world felt the same way. As we would joyously regale with the tidings of the season—exchange gifts, bake Christmas cookies, listen to the nostalgic crooning of carols from our youth—we could at least pacify ourselves with the notion that we were performing for something much more grand than the shimmering tree before us.
But as the years go by at an ever-accelerating megahertz, I find the ability to intuit a deeper meaning to the frivolous yuletide festivities increasingly difficult. It seems that Holiday Spirit and Joy is not something that I can purchase at Amazon.com and have delivered to me with free shipping. Perhaps I missed the highlighted hyperlink for Christmas Spirit somewhere on the internet. I do sense the same longing in the faces of the people around me as I wander the aisles of stores during “The Biggest Holiday Sale Ever” looking for this spirit, and they seem to be searching for it too. Is that it, over there on the high shelf, just beyond our reach? I wonder if it is because, in our over-commercialized culture, we expect it to be packaged in shiny shrink-wrap with an ingredient label describing its contents. I could ponder the reasons for my recent sense of despondency towards the holidays deep into the hollow abyss of eternity, but I digress…
The reason I am writing to you today, Santa Claus, is because I would like to ask you for something, and since I never did receive that “Pink and Pretty Barbie” at age thirteen when I last wrote to you, I kind of feel like you owe me one.
What I would like for Christmas this year is this: I want to once again feel the joy of the season, as I did many years ago when I was a child. But this is one that I’d like everyone to share in. So please give me, my family, and all the people of the world, for whom this hectic holiday has lost any sense of poignancy the sense that it isn’t all for naught. Regardless of personal, philosophical, and religious beliefs, please give us all that holiday joy—that brewing build-up of anticipation and excitement, that something spectacular is going to happen really really soon! It does not have to come with free financing for six months. It does not need to come via text, email, or UPS. I want to see it in the faces of my family and friends and neighbors and people on the streets. I want us to feel it this year and every year as we remember all that we have to be thankful for and that Christmas cheer does not have to cost any more than the small effort it takes to simply smile and say to each other “Happy Holidays.”
Yours Truly,
Misty
©2008 Misty Simon
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