My Last Letter to Santa

Thu, 06/13/2019 - 12:15 -- mgdlna

When I was a little girl, 

Every Christmas Eve, 

I used to dream of sugar flurries 

In a candy-cane wilderness 

That made the world around me glitter, 

Hot chocolate sweetening the air, 

The chugging and puffing of little trains 

From a little cookie cottage in the distance, 

Magical lights sparkling like fireflies from the windows, 


And a stout man in red with a cherry nose and a jolly smile, 

Walking beside me through the snow and opening 

A gingerbread door to a place filled with joy 

No child could describe. 


I used to dream that I met Santa Claus. 

What a dream that was! 

And then I’d wake up, 

Dreams melting away 

The next morning, 

Finding myself shivering 

In the dark and 

Only seeing 

What flurries 

Left behind 



I used to write letters to Santa every year,  

Asking him to let me see him for one night.

But over time, I stopped waiting for dreams 

To come true, waiting for fantasies 

To answer back. 


And then, one autumn night, 

My doubts of meeting Santa melted away

Before he melted away, too, 

And I grew up. 


I decided to write one more letter to him, 

But this time, addressing him in words

Only grown-ups would understand: 


Dear Mr. Claus, 

I sincerely apologize 

Should this letter come to you too late.  

In that case, I pray you forgive me. 


I understand that you may not know me well: 

We never spoke to each other much, 

And we never had a formal introduction. 

I knew your name from other people 


And that we went to the same church every week. 


I wish I knew you better. 

I do know 


That my mother told me 

About the jolly man 

With the snowy beard, 

The round tummy, 

The warm smile, 

Who greeted her at the front door 

On Sundays— 

On some days, I’d feel the Sun 

In that smile, too; 


And that my sister told me 

About her teacher at church-school, 

Who always knew how 

To make a child laugh, 

Who chuckled once when his son 

Told his friends 

That his father 

Was Santa Claus; 


And that my father told me 

About a close friend 

At the church’s fraternity, 

Who had a heart 

Like Saint Nick’s, 

A brother he never had; 


And that, one autumn night, 

The priest told everyone 

That choirs of angels in Heaven were singing 

That Santa Claus was coming to town. 


I’m sorry 

This letter 

Came to you 

Too late. 

I pray you 

Forgive me... 


I didn’t realize my childhood dream 

Came true every Sunday. 

I wish I knew you better, 

But as much as I can wish, 

I can’t be a child again. 

Everyone here misses you. 

But I’m glad 

You made it home 

For Christmas. 



I know you’ve given so much already. 

You can’t give me this: 

Only He can. 

But may you please ask Him 

To give me one wish? 

I promise to be good for both of you! 

It’s a different wish—  

But the same wish 

I’ll ask for every Christmas Eve

From now on: 


That I’ll dream 

Of sugar flurries 

That night 

And wake up 

The next morning, 

Not lying in bed, 

But walking 


In a winter 


With you.


This poem is about: 
My community
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741