Dear Jamie,
I hope this letter finds you in good spirits. I wanted to take a moment to reach out and address your feelings of disappointment regarding the absence of the zipline and smart whiteboard on this year’s gift list. You see, my team of elves is busy crafting a multitude of gifts, but we face limitations in both resources and time. The items you wished for would have required an astounding $8,010 in materials and 297 hours of elf labor! It simply wasn’t feasible to fulfill every request while ensuring that all children around the world receive their gifts.
I understand that this may leave you feeling a bit let down, particularly after being surrounded by messages that material possessions bring happiness throughout your seven years of life.
Recently, I saw you—through my magical snow globe—ask your mom, “If Santa can’t bring me what I want, can’t you earn more money to buy it for me?” It was clear that you felt a bit deflated when your mom explained that she works part-time to be present for you and that true happiness extends beyond toys and money. While you nodded in understanding, I sensed the confusion in your heart.
So, I’d like to share some moments I observed through my snow globe this holiday season that illustrate the essence of joy, love, and happiness that cannot be bought or wrapped.
I saw you, one afternoon, dancing with your friends and siblings to the lively tunes of your mom’s phone, “Uptown Funk” echoing around you. You truly shined, and your laughter traveled all the way to the North Pole. That moment was filled with freedom and joy—completely independent from any material possessions.
I witnessed you resting your head on your mother’s lap, feeling comforted as you missed your best friend who moved away. This warmth and safety were free, yet priceless, showing how much you cherish those around you.
I admired your kindness as you animatedly read to your brother, even though reading aloud is not your favorite. You went out of your way to cheer him up during his sickness, and your mom celebrated your compassion. Later, I saw you sneak a dollar from your tooth fairy stash into the charity box at the Ronald McDonald House. These acts of kindness brought you a sense of purpose that no toy could replicate.
Remember the joy of reuniting with your dad after his trip? The “Ronnie sandwich” hugs you shared were filled with warmth and connection, illustrating how love is a treasure that doesn’t cost a thing.
You even showcased your unique style by wearing mismatched shoes and declaring a new trend. Your brother looked up to you, reflecting the positivity and acceptance that can’t be found in any store.
When faced with homework difficulties, your perseverance paid off, and that feeling of achievement was yours alone. Similarly, at your aunt’s birthday party, your magical performance brought joy to everyone around you, proving that confidence is a treasure found within.
On your bike ride to school, you demonstrated responsibility when you realized you forgot your bike lock. Your pride in retrieving it showed that growth and trust are invaluable gifts.
Lastly, I admired your honesty when you admitted to snooping for hidden presents. You felt that warm glow of integrity, a sensation that no amount of money can buy.
Jamie, while you may not grasp this entirely right now, those moments of joy, safety, kindness, love, belonging, and growth are the true gifts that enrich your life. My role may seem grand, but compared to the essence of these experiences, it pales in significance.
My hope is that you, along with children everywhere, experience countless moments that are far more meaningful than the most sought-after toys or extravagant gifts.
Ho, Ho, Ho!
Warm wishes,
Santa