I know, it’s terribly late to be writing a letter.

But the good news is that I don’t need anything this year.  Why, you ask?  Well, I ask you what more could I want?

  • I already got my Christmas miracle yesterday.
  • Giggles and Monkey got engaged.
  • I’ve been living on my own for a year.
  • Elder Moose is safely on his mission.
  • I have a great relationship with my family.
  • I have my health–physically and mentally.
  • My car, despite his age and general raggedy-ness, is in working order.
  • I’ve got a wonderful community at work and at church.

So why am I writing?

Because I need to make some room for you.  Every year, you get shoved to the side as a symbol of the commercialism and death of Christmas and entitlement.  Except, you’re really not.  You symbolize hope and faith and goodness.  You symbolize wishes come true and dreams made.  You enable children to try new things and wish for more than they might dare.

And the man you started off as, Saint Nicholas, well, he was everything we should hope to be at this and every time of year.  You gave freely and without expectation of reward.  You gave with love.  You stood up for your beliefs with passion.  You testified to the divinity of Christ.

Santa is not some symptom of a great problem–you cannot be!  No, our treatment of you is the symptom of the problem.  We have turned you from your faithful and Christ-honoring roots.  We have turned you into a giver of materials rather than a giver of love and hope and dreams.

Today, I am writing to you, Santa, because I want to say: I believe in you.  There is room for you here.

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