A NOTE TO SANTA
She hurried to find the store, she had to get there in time,
The big store where Santa was closed its doors at nine.
In her hand was a wish list, it was very short indeed,
She was not a selfish child, for sharing was her creed.

The streets were very busy, and for ten she was quite small,
Big blue eyes, dark hair, a pretty face, but she was not tall.
She slipped and the note flew from her cold hand, she cried,
She hurried on, made the store, lined up for santa with pride.

Her turn came, Santa gave her a smile as she sat on his knee
‘Now pretty one,’ he said ‘what gifts do you require of me?’
‘That mom and dad won’t part again and my brother get well
And if you have room, a nice book so stories I can tell’

Santa said he would try, asked that she should give her name,
When she went away Santa didn’t ever feel quite the same.
It was hard to smile at the next child as she sat upon his knee,
Then ask the same old question ‘What do you require of me?’

A husband walking home from work in a terrible mood,
His wife would be miserable, son crying, have to wait for food,
He saw a scrap of paper, read it, then tears came into his eyes,
Took it home in a better mood, to his wife’s utter surprise.

He was the dad of the blue eyed child who wanted three things.
Could he still show love at home and feel the happiness it brings?
They’d both try they said, as they read that note to Santa Clause,
There are miracles, especially at Christmas when there is just cause.