I recently discovered that the inpatient unit I work at has a mailbox for Santa. Apparently, it’s been a a part of the Christmas decorations that are a huge part of bringing some normalcy to a lot of patients and their families during a most difficult time of their lives. We were recently shared a letter that appeared in the mailbox:
Unfortunately, there’s no way to figure out who placed this letter in the LETTERS TO SANTA box or who actually wrote it which is just as gut-wrenching as the letter itself because I don’t know any one who wouldn’t respond to that letter and to make this little writer’s life better.
I’m not much of a Santa, maybe you aren’t either, but I know the best of what we always have to give doesn’t come in a sack on an Eve that promises much and doesn’t always deliver what’s really needed. If nothing else, may your arms be the WRAPPING Someone needs.
Bring the Wonder to the Child in each of us that obliterates all this Season promises to banish and yearns to give
as your write your own note to Santa:
Dear Santa,
Long time no write. Sorry. I forgot how to ask for help. I forgot how to reach out. Sometimes that happens to us adults.
I haven’t been very good this year. My brain has been naughty—but there’s still a child inside of me. Bring him compassion for himself. Bring him contentment. Bring him peace. Bring this child inside of me a softer heart.
That’s what this child inside of me needs. I’ll trade you some sugar cookies and milk for a kinder soul. I would love for him to unwrap some mercy this year.
I’ll be looking for you from the top of the fence. I’ll be the one waving. I’ll be the one who looks like a 50-year-old child.
I hope you haven’t forgotten me. I need you more than ever.
Love ya,
Chuck
(Thank you, John Roedel)
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