I’m a Stealth Mama. This is the Tale of the Santa Letter.
I confess, I read my son's letter to Santa today. He's 12 and he fully believes in the spirit of Christmas. He helped my younger son write a letter and then they both went and put them in the mailbox and flipped up the red metal flag.
Now, I ™m a sentimental mom. I cannot stand by and let the postman take my kids ™ precious letters to the North Pole abyss, and so, like the stealthy, tricky woman I am, I stole out to the mailbox when no one was looking, replaced the letters with Netflix movies that needed to be returned, and quickly hurried back inside with my treasures. And treasures they are. They ™ll be tucked away for the kids to read again one day, for their husbands and wives to ooooh and ahhhh over, and for us to get teary over when we remember how sweet and innocent they were.
My 7 year old's letter was precious:
Dear Cris Cringle (his spelling, not mine 🙂 ), Are you grumpy for Christmas? I hope your elves are watching hard…
He goes on to ask for toys he completely made up and signs the letter, ˜Your Friend, Caleb .
It was my 12 year old's letter, though, that choked me up. He wrote it because his little brother insisted they do it together. When he takes on a task, he gives it his all.
Here's an excerpt:
Santa, This year I ™m going to ask for the hardest thing you can give me.
~A cure for Celiac
~A girlfriend, and a first kiss, too
He signed it, sealed it, and after our 7 year old was done and they ™d gone down to the mailbox, they both went back to business as usual. The letter wasn't forgotten, though, It was as if my son putting his wish down on paper and sending it out into the universe gave it a real shot of coming true. He's been having a rough time of late, what with the abundance of holiday treats; his dietary restrictions make this time of year torture. Add to that his hormonally charged age and it's no wonder he's filled with angst..and hope for a better future. It's on his mind a lot. The simple fact that he wrote this request in a letter, that he wishes and hopes that one day there will be a cure for his disease, shows how deeply he feels his pain.
But on the flip side, right up there with a cure for Celiac, is the romance. He wants to feel connected to someone, to feel that spark of attraction as only a teenager can, to experience that first kiss. He's still my baby (I know he always will be–my oldest just turned 17 and he's still my baby), but he's growing up. And he's a romantic and a dreamer and I love that about him. I love that about all my children (oldest son is making something special for his girlfriend for Christmas!). Having a dream, even if it's one that will be hard won (or never won), makes the journey so meaningful.
I just pray that my son's wish comes true one day. (We're praying for a cure for type 1 diabetes, too, as we're afflicted with that, as well). No small prayers in our family!
There's something so innocent about letters to Santa. When no one is going to read them, kids reveal a little truth about themselves. It's the core of who they are, and it's a blessing to see into their souls in this way, even if you have to use well-intended and innocent subterfuge to do it.
Are you a Stealth Mama? What do you do with letters to Santa?