Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

It’s the second day of Christmas and here I am writing to you!

Surprise! I know. It’s been FOREVER. I’ll try not to leave it so long next time.

I wonder if you’ll even get this little email of mine. Do you have a computer in the North Pole? Do you even know what a computer is? Oh. Ha ha ha. Of COURSE you do, Santa— I’ll bet you’ve given a million of them away, in your time. Maybe even a billion. Well! However many you’ve given, I’m sure they’ve helped to change the world in some wonderful way.

Or not.

I mean, I don’t really know…

Umm. Santa? I truly am sorry I haven’t written for so long. The thing is, somewhere along the line someone told me you weren’t real—which is completely ridiculous, I know, especially considering I can feel you right here in my heart.

I’ll never let you go Santa.

Nope. Not ever. And do you know why?

Because I believe in magic. I believe in the magic of you.

That’s okay, isn’t it? For a big kid like me to believe in you always and forever and always, again?

Because, Santa, you’ve gotta know this: the magic of you lit the fire inside me. The magic of you helped to build me—helped fill me with all the bits of happy—and I am just not cool with letting you slip away quite so easily.

Big kids are allowed to believe, aren’t we, Santa?

I really hope you write back.

I really hope you write back and say, ‘Yes, Brooke, it’s okay for big kids to believe, too.’ Because I think my joy butterflies need you to keep them alive, Santa, I really and truly do. After all, joy butterflies eat magic for breakfast, lunch AND dinner. Without you…my joy butterflies might starve!

Anyway.

I really have waffled on.

I just wanted you to know this, Santa, I haven’t forgotten you. You’re still here, always in my heart.

Always.

Lots of love,

Brooke. (The biggest kid of them all.)