Santa, Can You Hear Me?

Santa, can you hear me?

Do I pray silently? 

Do I speak out loud?  Toward the sky? To the north?

Do I go to the mall and wait in line to talk with you?  I'd sit on your lap, but you might not ever be the same after that.

I know.  You've heard it all before.  But you haven't heard it from me.  And shouldn't that be worth something?

It's not really a material thing, not entirely.  Not there's anything wrong with asking for material things.  I mean, that's the whole nature of what you do, right?  You're not a deity, neither an angry nor a loving God.  Mostly, you're a way for the young to focus their gift lists enough that they can be dealt with.  I won't get it into it, but that can be a real boon to parents.

And people ask for non-material things, some sincerely, some not.  It's heartbreaking when children tell you their wishes for others.  That Mommy and Daddy get enough to eat.  That Baby Bobby's pneumonia is cured.  That Daddy stops hitting Mommy.  That Uncle Dud not be alone with them again.

There are even wishes for world peace, for the end of gun violence, that the poor are taken care of, that the bullies leave Roger alone.

Some wish for gifts for others.  That their sister gets the doll she wants, that Mommy gets a new dress, that the Echols family gets a nice Christmas Ham. 

That's where I come in.  I have a present that I want Santa to get to someone.  Someone important.  Someone whose rage and fear is hurting so many.  And it can't just be me that gives it to him.  It has to come from someone magical, someone who can make the gift open up and commence the journey that needs to be taken.

I want Santa to bring President Trump a copy of The Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.  And I want Santa to be sure that, as big of a non-reader that Trump is, that he at least starts it, and put it by his nightside, replacing Trump's beloved copy of Hitler's speeches.  And then he when he goes to sleep, Fox News left on, Melania in her own room. that the ghosts come, and that he goes with them, and that he wakes up, like Scrooge did, a new man, a caring man, a changed man.


At this point, it's the only thing that can save us.  A Christmas miracle.  A magical transformation that reforms him and saves the nation.

So, where are you Santa?  I need to get this message to you.  A lonely, frightened, desperate nation needs you.

And if you can't do that, I'll settle for resignation, impeachment or the 25th Amendment.


Just do it quick, Santa.

We may be running out of time.