Dear Santa Claus

Dear Santa Claus,

I don’t know you very much, but I hope you love all children—even if they don’t go to church like John. My mom says we are not Christians, but God is the same for everyone, and all paths of goodness lead to Him.

I am a good child, Santa Claus, and I know you are a good person too. You bring gifts to children on Christmas Day.

My father left some months ago. He had promised to bring us toys, but he hasn’t come back. Mom says he has gone to God now, and when someone goes to God, they never return.
I love my father very much. I don’t want the toys anymore.
Can you ask God to let him come back just one time, please?

Mom says Santa Claus brings gifts only to rich kids, and for poor ones like us, there are only hardships. Santa Claus, we are not rich. And with my father gone, it’s very hard for my mom to feed me and my brother.
So I ask for no toys or gifts.
Just please don’t bring any more hardships for my mother. I can’t bear to see her cry. I love her too.

When you come to deliver toys to John, can you bring a wheelchair for my brother? He cannot walk now because the last time we were playing football, a bomb fell from the sky, and he lost both his legs. Now he just lies in bed and watches from the window.
I don’t like to go play without him. He is too big for me to carry on my back.
So I want a wheelchair for him, Santa.
I’ll push him myself to where the boys play football.

I cannot tell you my name, because then you’ll know I don’t go to church, and my mom will be angry. But you can find our house. It’s two houses down the lane from John’s. I’ll hang my sock outside.
It’s an old, torn, red sock—very small. You’ll recognize it.

And Santa Claus—if you cannot bring what I ask for,
please, please don’t tell my mom.
She says we must never ask for things from people.

I love you, Santa Claus.
— A Child