Dear Santa, Love, Kimberley
by Kimberley Thompson, Tastemaker in Residence
I am 59 years old and writing you this letter from Minnesota. I know that many people either do not believe in you or put you in the slot of childhood fairy tales with Jack Frost, fairies and mermaids. I, personally, am fighting against my knowledge that you "cannot be," and this letter is sheer idiocy. Yet, I have this inner thought niggling at me that this letter is important to put to words.
Santa, the world needs to believe in a "YOU" more than ever. Humanity needs to rekindle the spirit of generosity, re-open hearts that have hardened, and nurture knowledge that one person DOES make a difference.
Here is what I would like for Christmas:
Patience: whether while driving, or in the slowest moving line EVER. If I could have a BIG box of patience, I could stop fuming and start "seeing" the delays as small gifts of time to look around. To see the elderly woman struggling to make change, to see the infirmities that made moving forward a tedious progress, to sense the weariness in the mother's eyes as she attempts to corral 2 children, a grocery cart and coupons. And with my gift of patience...I will promise to say a prayer each time for the other person.
Generosity: Santa, I thought I was good at being generous. But I am generous only when it is convenient to me. Can you bring me a wristwatch of generosity? So I may learn about the gift of TIME and how that often means as much, if not more, than a monetary donation.
Courage: A pair of big girl panties would be appreciated. How many times do I advert my gaze? Look away? Not even ask if help is needed? Right a wrong? I am not talking about taking on situations that could become dangerous; those are jobs better left for the professionals. I am talking about the put-downs, the hurtful remarks, the rudeness I see in my everyday life. The strength to say "I do not agree." The fortitude to stand up and exercise my spine.
Faith: Santa, this can be even a very small size box. I know the world is running out of faith; and you may not have an limitless supply. I promise not to waste the gift of faith; I may not even open it right away. But just to KNOW it is there...waiting for me to unwrap and open it when needed. That knowledge of its presence would give me bedrock to stand on...even when my knees are weak and my heart weary.
Hope: I would like a few ribbons of hope. Ones that I can braid into a child's hair, knot around a senior's collar or use to lead a furry friend safely home.
So Santa, I am sorry this list is daunting. Life seems darker these days and nights of 2018. And I wish this list was simpler...I think I have asked of you an insurmountable request.
But this I do remember:
"Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding. No Santa Claus! Thank God! He lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood." - by Francis Pharcellus Church The New York Sun, September 21, 1897