Dear Santa,
It is that time again, and I just wanted you to know that I have been good. At least I have tried. I recycle. I make up my bed every day. I try to eat five small servings of fruit or vegetables a day, although I have to say my diet does get a little lopsided. I try to be kind.
I try not to gossip, but I maintain there is such a thing as “good” gossip. Otherwise, I would put my foot in my mouth a lot more than I currently do, which is, sadly, frequent. I do try to indulge in good gossip, though, and pass along whatever happy news I can. If I can remember it.
I try to keep in touch with old friends. I myself am greatly blessed by that. I fall behind, however. As I write this, I am acutely aware of not having addressed any Christmas cards. I am so overwhelmed, I may not even get any done. My intentions are good, but I know the road to a certain place is paved with good intentions.
I want to be generous, but I confess I have become cynically jaundiced with the requests for money I get in the mail each day. I estimate they run at the very least between 12 and 15 daily, especially from charities to which I have already contributed. I think sometimes they use my whole contribution asking for more! People tell me it is best to give to the local charity you know, and that might be good advice. Maybe I need to learn to navigate that e-mail address to find which charities are bona fide ones. Christmas is a time that uncovers gross disparities, and that makes it sad for many. I yearn for everybody to have the benefits of the true Christmas wish, peace on earth.
As I write those words, I think of at least five recent acts of terrorism or unexplained violence. What is wrong with us? I do not think curtailing the possession of guns is the answer. Evil people will find guns or use something else. ISIS does not always use guns, but what could be more gruesome that public decapitation?
That brings us to the question of why. What kind of hatred reaches into populations one does not even know? What kind of people train little children to cut the heads off their toys? What makes people hate so much? They must even hate themselves in some twisted way, for they are willing to destroy themselves to say — what? What incubates homegrown hatred — envy, exclusion, loneliness, frustration, poverty, insanity or just plain meanness?
Then take “good will to mankind.” The Christmas angels promised that, too. Reading the newspapers or listening to the TV disenchants us about that as well.
I am one of the lucky ones. I don’t need a thing for Christmas in the way of material gifts, no matter how much I enjoy them. I do want to be with the people I love. What I need, what every one of us needs, is what was promised us on that first Christmas — peace on earth, good will to men.
Yet we are our own worst enemies. As people who try to be good, we are doing the best we can, we think; but we need more men of good will on this earth.
What we really need, Santa, turns out to be something even you, with all your good intentions, cannot give us.
Peace and good will must come from a higher power, the reason we celebrate Christ-mass in the first place, God with us.
So, Santa, that is what I ask for on my Christmas list. It may not be yours to give. I still ask for it for myself, my family, friends, for all who share this planet. For you, too, Santa, wherever you are.
The Dispatch Editorial Board is made up of publisher Peter Imes, columnist Slim Smith, managing editor Zack Plair and senior newsroom staff.
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