First, thank you for last year! The 8-foot stand up paddle board was a great gift, and I loved hitting the ocean this summer and catching waves. I felt like a kid again … and it was AWESOME! Speaking of being a kid again, this time of year always reminds me of my childhood when I would eagerly write you a letter with a compilation of all the things that I truly felt I could not live without. Year after year, you came through; not with everything—I see now that would have been gluttonous—but with the important things. Thanks especially for Christmas 1978; you really hit the nail on the head when you brought me my Lite-Brite!
Let’s not play games, Santa. We have done this countless times, albeit in my younger days, but we know the routine. I give you a list and you give me the stuff —or as I’ve learned, the most important stuff. Right? Nope, not this time around. is year, I am changing it up, Santa. This year, I say, “Keep your stuff.” That’s right, I said it. Keep. Your. STUFF! I am sick of it. My kids fight over it. It clutters my house, even my mind. So, this year, keep it!
Wait, don’t move to the next “stuff-requesting letter” just yet. I do want to ask for something. Mind you, it’s not for me; it’s for humanity. You see, Santa, we witness a lot of horrible things each day, and the things we see have me worried. Truly worried. There’s disease, war, shootings, terrorism and more. Fear not, I am not requesting that you put an end to disease, hunger or housewives trampling each other to death buying things they think they “need,” exactly one day after giving thanks for all they had. No, I am realistic and know you can’t do that. I know you are just a magic man in a red suit from my childhood who perhaps has not yet taken the self-help steps needed to grab a hold of his own weight problem.
The gift that I am putting on my list is a mighty powerful one. This gift will bring a person peace when suffering, courage when attempting, love when questioning, and hope when doubting.
You see, Santa, I got this gift from my parents when I was a little girl; I kept this gift with me throughout my life. Initially, I didn’t take care of it—that happens with gifts when we are young. Truth be told, there were times when I forgot I even had it! Yet, when I found that I truly needed it, I was relieved to discover it still worked. During my darkest hours—when my husband was sick, during the tough period when I lost my job, Hurricane Sandy or just two years ago when my house burned down—I was very happy to find that it was right where I left it. Without much nurturing, it has lasted my lifetime and never seems to lose its power.
I am talking about Faith.
This year, all I want for Christmas is Faith. For those people that already have faith, make it stronger; for those that are struggling to relocate lost faith, make it visible; and here’s the tough one: For those folks that have absolutely no faith at all, let them discover it.
That’s it. That’s all I want for Christmas. I know this whole letter thing is a quid pro quo arrangement, so, in return for granting humanity with the gift of faith—renewed, stronger or new—you will get one nice glass of organic milk; three homemade sugar-free, gluten-free Paleo cookies (I can’t promise they will taste good); and some kale for your reindeers. What do you think? Is it a deal?
Kelly Martinsen, Publisher