Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

Since I was a child, probably six years old or younger, I have already believed in you. Each time those Christmas lights around our house start to flicker, I stare at it delightfully while waiting for you to arrive and grant my wishes.

During those younger years of mine, I would always wish for a box of chocolates or a giant lollipop. Sometimes, though, I’d wish for a sock full of coins which in return I’ll buy for chocolates or lollipops, too.

Though you never came to hand me my wishes, someone would always come, either in the person of a family or friend, and grant my wish. Eventually, my Christmas would turn merry and blissful.

Now that I am 22 years old, old enough not to believe in fantasies anymore, I still want to believe in the magic that you bring as the hour strike at midnight, welcoming the 25^th day of December. Though I still want to receive those giant lollipops, I would wish for something else more than those sweet tooth or tiny silvers in the socks. And though there is only barely three days left before Christmas, I hope my wish list will get its way to you.

My heart was bruised for several times over and there even came a time when I already gave up on love. Though I stopped looking for love, I wish that love will find its way to me. I wish there is really someone in this whole, wide world who can complement my being; someone who can be a reflection of who I am; someone who can challenge me for who I am and love me passionately at the same time; and someone who could make my world go round and give me the love and respect I equally deserve.

While I am also very lucky of getting a job I really love which enables me to go to wonderful places and work with and for people in the countryside, each time I go back to my hometown where my family is, I am drifted to a world very different from where I currently live and work. I wish that even just this coming Christmas, I would feel the essence of what this season really is—and that is to have my family in a single roof, on the same table, eating all together while wishing everyone a merry Christmas even just for a day.

I wish, too, that you could bring back my two cousins who passed away 20 days before Christmas. Bring them back to their families to give them the Christmas they deserve. They were too young to leave the world. And they, too, deserve another Christmas time like everyone else.

Santa, for my last wish, give my mom more strength and faith to go through life. She is the source of my strength and my everything. Let her live longer to live a real life—a life full of happiness, love, and joy enough to outweigh her countless years of suffering and sacrifices.

My Christmas is back

Years ago, which I could hardly remember now, I could already feel the coming of the Christmas season upon opening my window. A cold breeze lands on my face, caresses my cheek and whispers the melody of the yuletide season.

As I stride through the neighborhood, lanterns and Christmas lights were already grandiosely decorated on each house as well as the trees mightily standing on the streets. As the night comes in, the whole stretch of the place, as far as my eyes can see, was vividly lighted. Its glowing colors illuminates to every corner making the night come to fuller life as it signals the arrival of the Christmas season.

Years fast forward, this fleeting moment never came back to the picture again. Not until last night.

While I was still recovering from lack of sleep for nine consecutive days and regenerating from bone-breaking legworks, I still dragged myself to work over the holiday with the hope to finish my proposal and assigned articles. With the long to-do-list I have in front of my computer, I felt ill all the more. For the whole day yesterday, I was shaking inside and out. But I still tried to get my focus and my will won over my exhaustion.

Feeling already wearing out from the day’s toil, I wished for a breath of fresh air. I was itching to get out from my succumbing office. As if the heavens heard my little prayer, a friend asked me out.

As we freely sat on the grounds outside the university, my weariness and fatigue came tumbling all over my nerves. But as I caught that cold breeze again, those monsters of stress fade out all at once.

Having with us a very kind teacher-turned-businessman who is an excellent singer and guitarist all in one package, the bustling night turned into a calm, peaceful mood as he serenaded us with songs from the 80’s and 90’s. While I and my friend were listening to his music, I thought to myself: This is wonderful. This is life. At first, I didn’t know if it’s because of the song echoing through the park or is it because of the presence of that dear friend who sways like a li’l child as the guitar kept on being strummed. Or is it simply the company that is bringing me a momentary relief? Or is it because it was already too long ago that Christmas season passes without me noticing it?

Because I wanted to cherish every split second of this wonderful moment, I lied down on the grasses, not minding anyone else around the park. As I gazed up the sky, I can’t contain how happy I was feeling at the moment because finally I am star gazing again, which is a simple thing that never fails to bring enormous happiness to my heart. Just by looking at the stars and locating the small and big dippers (which are the only constellations I am most familiar with), I feel peace and serenity. The universe is extremely huge and full of exquisite wonders, I thought again to myself.

As I tossed to my left side, where my friend R is, I asked him: Is Santa Claus real?  I know I was kind of stupid in asking that question but maybe I was just under the spell of the magical night that made me ask a question that is somewhat not quite too fitting to a 22-year old woman like me. But to be honest, I still want to believe Santa Claus is real even If my friend gave me a quizzical look upon throwing such question.

I was further bewitched by the moment as I noticed children play around the park, hugging the 6feet tall Santa Claus figurine and taking pictures with it. Oh how wonderful is it to be like a child again… carefree and believing in Santa Claus without ever getting that quizzical stares from anyone.

The park was also surrounded by Christmas lights and several lanterns ready to be lit up tonight as December 1 takes off. And oh… those bold, whimsical letters saying Merry Christmas. And the Christmas carols ringing all over the place. And… I was snapped back to Kuya Nine, the singer, and my friend R who are already tapping their pants to shun off the tiny grasses that were stuck to it. As they rose, I knew it’s time to leave and call it a night.

As I and R headed home, I felt how that night, how that one hour moment magically turned my heart at peace once again stoking that little flame of hope that Christmas, the old Christmas way I used to have, is back again.

Merry Christmas everyone!