Dear Santa

Growing up, I really can't remember believing in Santa Claus. Maybe I did, but I just can't remember. Of course we had secret Santa at school, but that was different because I basically knew that the gift came from one of my classmates. But when it comes to Christmas stockings, I don't think I ever had one when I was a child. I really never asked for any gift from Santa as far as I can remember. Automatically though on Christmas day, we would go to out godparent's house and there, they would give us money, candies and some gifts. Other than that, I think I never got one from Santa.

So two days after Christmas and the spirit is still very much around. I actually saw this poem that was posted by Grieving Mothers and I find it cute. I don't know how you celebrate Christmas up there. Maybe it is more beautiful than here. And I'm sure St. Nick is the one entertaining the baby angels. Ah, how I wish you could tell me how you celebrate Christmas up there. 

Anyway, here's the poem by Necole Stephens:

Dear Santa, 

I'm writing you this letter as I'm feeling a little blue, 

so I hope you don't think that I'm asking too much of you. 

You visit every year and leave everyone such wonderful things,

 but I'm wondering if you also visit our loved ones who have wings. 

I know you must be busy, so much to do in just one night, 

but could you please make an extra trip to the stars that shine so bright?

You see, we have special loved ones, too perfect for life on earth. 

No presents could we send them, to truly show their worth. 

So could you please leave them all a gift and put a stocking on their cloud, 

filled with precious presents from their loved ones on the ground.

 Please stroke their sleepy heads, tell them their families love them so.

 If you could do this for me Santa, their families might be able to smile, 

if only just for a tiny little while. 

Thank you so much for everything you do. 

After all it is Christmas up in Heaven too.

I know we don't really have to ask Santa this because I'm sure you have your own Santa up there. But knowing you, maybe you won't be queuing for gifts. You will say that you're no longer a child and that you don't need to ask Santa for anything.

I so miss you so much. How I wish I can speak to you in my dreams just to see how you're doing up there. As much as I am confident that you're very well, I just want to hear your voice once more. I love you anak ko.

Mommy Tintin