Finding Santa

Dear H and N,


Christmas this year, is going to be different. It was this year that you discovered that there is no Santa. N, how you cried! It broke my heart. I had no answer to your 'you lied to me' allegation. It's true of course. It was I who ate up your cookies, I who put the gifts and I who read the letters I'd helped you write in the first place.

I know you'll miss him. That plump, smiling, silver haired presence bearing gifts for you, the one who makes everyone smile - oh yes Santa will be missed... sorely. 

Or maybe .... just maybe we could do something to make you feel better. How about we find ourselves a Santa - a real one, no lies this time. He's a bit different than the Santa I told you about. He doesn't live at the North Pole to begin with. 

So where is he? You ask. I can see the disbelief in your little faces. Hear me out then and be patient.

This Santa is all around us. What's more, he's far more generous than the red-suit guy. He doesn't wait for Christmas to give us gifts. He comes unannounced any day, anytime, sometimes many times a day, bearing precious gifts. You'll have to look carefully though for he's in disguise - no red suit, no silver beard.

'So how will we know him?' I hear you ask, suspicious still.

Well, first, wipe off those disbelieving looks then listen on my little doubting Thomas' - here's how you can see him.

Shut your eyes. Yes, shut your eyes. 
Go on do it.

....Now open your hearts...

and think...

Did someone make your face light up with a smile recently? 
Did someone do anything to make you feel special?
Did someone make your heart swell with happiness and fill with warmth?
Did a hug or a kiss or a compliment make you feel like the happiest person on earth? 

Did someone make you feel so happy you wanted the whole world to smile with you?

Well.. hold on to them, that right there is your Santa.

That friend who stood up for you, that teacher who said 'well done', mama who surprised you with your favourite tiffin, grandma who saves up a new story for you everyday, dad who came home early with your favourite sweet - they're your Santa.

And your gifts? - the smile, the warmth, the happiness - aren't they all precious? Way more precious than that remote controlled car, that crashed within a week of it's arrival, right H? Or that Barbie buried somewhere deep in your toy cupboard N.


And you know what? You are a Santa too.


Remember that one time I came home all tired and you ran to give me a hug? I so needed it then, and you were my Santa. And that lopsided cake you made me - you were my Santa again. In fact, you became my Santas the moment you were born.


There's a Santa in all of us. He just hides away sometimes under the stress of homework and housework, the arguments and the anger. This Christmas let's dig him out and give him a new life, shall we? 

Let's all be Santas this Christmas - real live Santas.

Love and hugs,

Ma.

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