Sunday, December 11, 2005
Note: I wrote this in about half an hour, I think.. Its gonna be put up on my other blog too. Well, for once, it ain't a sad story! But yes, there is death involved. But no, it ain't a major part, for once. :D Specially for Christmas.
Here's the message:
Appreciate this season of sharing and giving. No matter how unhappy you are, or how much you are unwilling to celebrate Christmas, if you are willing to enjoy and not dwell in your own misery, its the best time to celebrate. Make full use of it.
Dearest Mr. Claus,
I am writing to you to thank you for a dream I had experienced just a few days ago.
I dreamt that you came to me and bestowed upon me all that I wished for. You were even in possession of the glowing halo that all angels and saints have had ever since they existed. But yours, Mr. Santa, was the biggest I had ever set my eyes upon. It looked as though the biggest doughnut ever was hovering about over your head. I reached out to take it, but you laughed that merry old laugh of yours, and before I knew it, all the food I could ever imagine I could have appeared before me on this large, wooden dining table complete with a Christmas table runner.
Do you remember, Santa? On it were nuts and drinks of all kinds, fresh potato salad, hot cross buns, hot dogs, many many packets of chips, and what every Christmas table should have, a large and warm roasted turkey. I feasted my eyes upon the overwhelming amount of food before looking around for my family. My father, my mother, my younger brother who was so small he couldn’t speak. All of a sudden, they appeared around the table and we began to eat. It was the best dinner I had ever had. Ever.
Do you remember all that, Santa? I do. This is a letter from me to you to thank you specially for that wonderful feast that I would never have had. You made my Christmas.
Are you an Angel of God? Please reply.
Yours sincerely,
Susan
P.S. I learnt how to fold a paper heart on the last day of the school term. Hope you like it.
Folding a paper heart with gloves on was no easy feat, though they were thin. Her small fingers fumbled clumsily with the last step of completing the heart she tried so hard to make perfect. Pressing it flat, Susan sat up from between the graves of her family and laid the white heart lightly on the snowy ground before her.
A whisper of a slight grin touched her lips, then broke into a true smile as she gazed up at the beautiful azure sky above. She dropped her gaze back down to the paper heart and sheltered it lovingly with snow. Her gloved hands were covering the heart protectively when she was done, and together with the warmth of her bare cheek pressing against her hands, Susan felt, as she closed her eyes, that it was the best Christmas ever.
I cried at 7:32 AM
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Did you hear me this time?
