November 17, 2011
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Dear Santa Claus,

My parents told me when I was just five years of age that you did not exist. I believed them. I wish I could say the same for today. In a world so materialistic like ours, you seem even more real than what I'm being told. The president tells us he will bring the troops back, but that's not real. My daddy is one of them, could you bring them back, please? Santa, you are more real than the girls at my school. Their hair is fake, their nails are fake, even their noses are fake. When somebody asks me something I have to ask if it is true- how can I know in a world so false like ours? When words have such great effect yet are spread around excessively like jelly on bread. Even my own image of the future is fake. I choose to believe that the trees and the birds and the clean ocean will be there for my children, and their children who follow. But this too is false! My children will never see Rhinos, or a clean ocean, or clean air. Their lungs will be dirty and their hearts too will be filled with unpure intent. They will grow up to believe this. Santa, you are more real than everything I know.



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