A Letter To Santa

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It was dark, very dark and she was scared, as she didn’t really like the dark.
She had a little torch under her bed covers and she had tried very hard to stay awake.…


A Letter To Santa

By Susan Brown

It was dark, very dark and she was scared, as she didn’t really like the dark.

She had a little torch under her bed covers and she had tried very hard to stay awake.

Being seven years old, she needed as much sleep as possible, but that night, she just had to stay awake for as long as possible.

She heard a noise and forgetting her fears, she shot out of bed, but quietly, as she didn’t want to wake her sister who was in the bunk above.

Going over to the window, she opened the curtains slightly and looked out. It was a clear moonlit night and the stars were twinkling away like the fairy lights on the Christmas tree downstairs. But she wasn’t interested in twinkling lights as she was looking for Santa.

This was the fourth time she had heard a noise that night and she was determined to stay away for as long as possible, so that she could see Santa and maybe ask him if he got her letter.

This year she had missed out seeing Santa at the shopping centre. She had had the measles and hadn’t been allowed out. Her twin sister, Anne had seen him and was being nasty because she had told him what she wanted and he said that if she was a good girl, she would get what she dreamed of. Sarah had not had the chance to tell Santa what she wanted most of all.

Sarah, for that was the little girls’ name, was very sad that she had missed out on seeing Santa. It was the first time that she hadn’t seen him at Christmas for almost ever.

Then Mummy told her to write to Santa and she would make sure that the letter would be posted in time for Santa to read it.

Sarah was still worried after Mummy posted the letter in the post office box that Santa might be too busy to read her letter or it might get lost in the post or something. Daddy, who was a plumber man, often said that his customers, that’s the people he works for, sometimes said that the money was in the post, but somehow, a lot of the time, the money never arrived.

So Sarah decided that she would try to stay awake and see Santa when he arrived with his sack and make sure that he got her letter, if not, she could tell him what she wanted.

Once again, as she looked out of the window and looked up at the sky and down on the moonlit garden, there was nothing outside.

She sighed and went back to bed yawning.

Sarah was very tired now and despite having her torch on under the bedcovers and one of her favourite books to read, Rapunzel; it wasn’t enough to keep her awake and before she knew it, she was asleep.

Sarah awoke with a start. Her torch had gone out and she realised straight away that she had fallen asleep. She sat up in bed and saw that it was still dark. The small digital clock on the chest of drawers said that it was 5:30.

‘Maybe Santa hasn’t come yet,’ she thought.

She quietly got out of bed, climbed the short ladder to see if Anne was awake. She was fast asleep with her mouth open and was making funny snortie noises.

Sarah was tempted to drop a sweet into her open mouth to make her jump, but thankfully, she didn’t do it as she had important things to do.

Climbing back down the ladder, she put her slippers and dressing gown on and then opened the bedroom door.

Peaking outside, she could see that all was quiet. The only light came from the lamp on the hall table, which glowed gently.

Mummy and Daddy’s room was down the hall. The door was shut.

Sarah padded over to the door and put her ear up against it. She could hear the deep snortie noise that Daddy made when he was asleep, although he always said that he never did that.

Sarah went downstairs. On the downstairs hall table, there was another light that glowed gently, so that she could see her way. On that table, every year, her parents put out a glass of medicine like stuff called whisky (it smelt horrible) and two mince pies on a plate.

She immediately went over to the table and groaned.

The drink had been drunk and on the plate, were only a few crumbs left of the mince pies.

Sarah had missed Santa.

She was determined not to cry as she was a big girl and big girls don’t cry ¬–well not much, anyway.

She crossed her fingers that Santa had got her letter, but she just had to see.

The house was still all quiet and she was the only one awake and she knew that she didn’t have much time as Mummy said that she had to get up very early to peel sprouts (yuck) and sort the turkey out (yummy).

Sarah walked over to the lounge door and opened it quietly. The Christmas tree lights were twinkling away and the log fire was still red and glowed gently, casting shadows across the room. The decorations, the ones that she helped to put up, all looked lovely and it was a very Christmassy room, as Mummy called it.

The Christmas tree looked so pretty with the lights, glittery balls and other decorations, but Sarah only had eyes for what was underneath the tree.

There were two piles of boxes, some large and some small. Anne’s pile was always on the left and Sarah’s on the right.

‘Santa has come,’ she whispered.

She immediately went over to the right hand pile and squatted down. She looked at the labels and then picked some of the presents and shook the boxes. She was dying to know if the presents that she had asked for in her letter would be the ones that she actually got, especially the big, huge, magical present that she wanted above everything else.

‘It wouldn’t hurt to just tear a teeny, weeny piece of wrapping paper off,’ she thought, ‘just to see.’

She got up, went over to the door and peered out, listening all the while.

All was quiet still. All she could hear was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

She quietly shut the door and with her heart beating nineteen to the dozen, she went back to the tree and the presents underneath.

She picked up one of the presents, a box that wasn’t too large and then went to pick the corner of the paper off. She hesitated for a moment, as she was a good girl really and knew that it was a naughty thing to do.

But she had to know. She didn’t want to wait any longer; she had been waiting for this for a whole year. She had seen Santa last year at the big shop where he had one of his grottos and had whispered in his ear what she wanted more than anything.

She didn’t get what she wished for and she was very upset, although she didn’t show it in front of her mummy and daddy, as they loved her very much and she didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

She realised after that, that Santa might not have heard her whispered requests in that busy, loud grotto, so this year, Sarah thought that it was a wonderful idea to write him a letter. It was the only good thing about having the measles.

In the end, she had to do it, so she tore a corner of the paper off.

She could see the picture on the box; it was a toy fire engine.

She felt a lump in her tummy. This wasn’t supposed to happen. With a heavy heart, she picked up the present and put it under the rest, so it wouldn’t show that she had peaked at it.

She sat on the rug, in front of the fire. The logs were cracking slightly. As she stared into the low flames, she wondered what she had to do to make her dreams come true.

Tears fell down her cheeks as she sobbed.

Christmas was supposed to be such a happy time and yet, every year, it wasn’t a happy time for Sarah. Oh she pretended that she was happy and so pleased to have the presents that were given to her, but every year for as long as she could remember, the presents that she really wanted, she never got.

Anne had always been the lucky one. She had what she wanted when she wanted it. Anne was the favourite and Sarah always thought that it was so unfair.

It was so unfair.

She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dressing gown and then sniffing, she stood up and went over to the Christmas tree again.

So, Santa hadn’t given her the presents she wanted.

A couple of the children at school had said that Santa wasn’t real and that had upset Sarah, but then she thought that they were stupid and what did they know, anyway.

Now though, she wondered if there was something in what they said. It would be heart-breaking if that were true; as then, there would be no way in which Sarah’s special present would ever be given to her.

Sarah glanced over at Anne’s pile of brightly wrapped presents and sat down by them. She wondered what Anne had got this year.

She picked up a present and rattled it.

No sound.

She thought for a moment and then picked away at the edge of the paper, just like she had with her one. It wouldn’t do any harm. She would just hide it under the other ones that were in Anne’s pile.

Sarah couldn’t see what the present was, so she picked away at more of the present. Before she realised it, the wrapping had fallen off and the box fell to the ground. And the lid fell off.

‘Oh,’ said Sarah.

It was a dress.

A pretty red dress.

A lovely, Christmassy red dress.

She had done it now. She had opened a present before the time a present should be opened, after breakfast, with everyone there to see.

And she had opened a present that wasn’t for her.

Mummy and Daddy would be so cross.

She picked up the dress and looked at it from every angle. It was such a pretty dress.

It was no good; she would have to try it on. The damage was done now. What more harm could there be in just trying it on for minute or two?

In a moment, she had taken off her dressing gown and jim-jams and she pulled the dress on over her head. She struggled a bit with the zip at the back, but somehow managed to pull it up.

Sarah was the same size as Anne and the dress fitted her like a glove. It was a lovely dress; a wonderful dress and Sarah loved it to bits.

She danced around the room, quite forgetting for a while how disappointed that she had been when her letter to Santa hadn’t been answered.

She stopped after a while, breathing heavily. It had been so nice to dance around like that in such a pretty dress. She would take it off in a minute, put it back in the box and then hide it among her presents and then open it later and just say something like, ‘oh look, this must be Anne’s.’ or something.

Sarah wasn’t a deceitful child and she never normally lied, but she knew that she would get into trouble if the truth were known and she didn’t want to get told off and upset anyone at Christmas time.

Just then she noticed that Anne had left one of her many dolls on the chair by the side of the fire.

Sarah liked that doll. She was called Cindy.

She picked up the doll, said hello and then jumped up on the chair, holding Cindy close to her chest.

It was nice sitting there in the warm, wearing a lovely dress and cuddling Cindy.

Sarah yawned. She hadn’t had much sleep and she was now feeling the effects of the long nights wait for Santa.

She shut her eyes for a moment, the warmth of the glowing fire making her feel even more sleepy.

Before she knew it, she had nodded off.

‘Mummy, Daddy, look!’

Sarah woke up with a jolt. The lights were on and she blinked in the bright light.

Mummy, Daddy and Anne were standing in front of her and none of them looked happy.

Then, with a rush, Sarah remembered. She looked down and she was wearing the red dress and holding on tightly to Cindy.

Mummy spoke first.

‘What have you done?’ she asked, tight lipped.

‘S…sorry Mummy.’

‘Sorry? Sorry doesn’t cut it. How dare you get up early, come down stairs, open one of your sisters presents and worst of all wear it?’

‘I…I didn’t mean it Mummy, honestly. I just…just…’

Sarah had nothing to say. She knew that she was in the wrong and would have to take her punishment.

‘Daddy will take you up to your room and you will stay there until we decide what we will do with you.’

‘Mummy…’

‘Keep quiet Anne and leave this to us.’

‘But my dress…’

‘We will get you another one, dear.’

Daddy picked up her dressing gown and jim-jams and then took Sarah by the hand and without a word, took her upstairs and into the bedroom.

Sarah was crying now. She knew that she had spoilt Christmas for everyone and the likelihood of ever having the special present that she had always yearned for, would never happen.

‘Change back in to your pyjamas.’

Sarah did as she was told and handed the dress back to Daddy.

‘You had better get back into bed; you look tired. We’ll talk about this later.’

Sarah climbed back into bed and looked up at her daddy.

‘I’m sorry Daddy.’

Daddy smiled gently.

‘Oh Michael, what are we going to do with you.’

‘I’m Sar…oh, never mind.’

He bent over and stroked her hair.

‘Try to get some sleep. I’ll try to make things better for you with Mummy and Anne.’

‘Thanks Daddy.’

Sarah turned over and shut her eyes. She heard the door close quietly and then she was alone with her jumbled thoughts.

In her mind and for as long as she remembered, she had always been Sarah and not Michael. She looked like a Michael and dressed like a Michael, but she was, inside, always Sarah.

She had kept this a secret always, as she knew that Mummy and Daddy loved their son as much as they loved their daughter Anne. It would have broken their hearts to know that Michael wasn’t real but only someone that Sarah pretended to be.

She had cried herself out and worn herself out and was very, very tired. All those hours awake for a child of seven was a bit too much and Sarah fell asleep, feeling really guilty and sorry that she had spoilt things for her family and knowing that everyone thought that she was a boy and only she knew that she was a girl…

‘Sarah, wake up,’ hissed Anne.

She opened her eyes and looked up at her sisters excited face.

‘W…what?’

‘Come on silly, lets go and wake Mummy and Daddy, it’s 7 o’clock. Come on!’

‘I…it cant be 7…’

She glanced at the digital clock and it said 6:58, close enough.

Anne dragged her out of bed and Sarah gasped. She was wearing pink Eeyore nightdress.

What was going on? Why was it early again? When Daddy brought her back to bed, it was later than that and now it was 7 o’clock again!

And she was wearing a nightie.

And her hair was as long as Anne’s.

Anne had called her Sarah.

Anne didn’t allow her any more time to think as she pulled her by her hand to Mummy and Daddy’s room and pushed open the door.

Mummy and Daddy were hugging a bit closely and were doing that yucky thing where they kissed with their mouths open.


‘Happy Christmas,’
shouted Anne.

Sarah just stood there looking at her parents.

Mummy and Daddy, who both looked a bit red in the face some reason, sat up and looked over at them.

‘Girls, do you know what time it is?’

‘7 o’clock and its Christmas Day,’ shouted Anne, jumping up and down.

Sarah just stood there.

The last time she had seen her parents, they had caught her wearing Anne’s Christmas present dress and they were very angry. Now, it was if nothing happened and somehow, Sarah had been changed magically into a real girl. She had checked a few moments before and her thingie had gone, so she couldn’t be Michael now even if she wanted, which she definitely didn’t.

Daddy got up and rushed a bit stiffly to the bathroom, shutting the door after him.

Mummy, who still looked quite red in the face, smiled at Anne and Sarah.

‘I think that we overslept a bit,’ she said. ‘Sarah, are you all right?’

Sarah burst into tears.

A few minutes later, after Daddy came out of the bathroom, he took Anne downstairs to help him make a cup of tea for Mummy and Sarah found herself in bed with Mummy having a lovely cuddle.

‘Now what’s wrong darling?’ asked Mummy.

Sarah, who was very confused just blurted it out.

‘I…I stayed up to see Santa. I wanted to know if he got my letter.’

‘I’m sure he did.’

Sarah just carried on talking as if Mummy hadn’t spoken.

‘I tried to stay awake, but I fell asleep and then I came downstairs and I saw from the empty glass and the plate that he’d been already and I had missed him.’

‘But…’

A…and then I did a naughty thing, I went into the lounge and opened one of my presents and when I saw that it was a nasty fire engine I got sad as I knew that Santa hadn’t read my letter. It was just like last year when I whispered to Santa in his grotto that I wanted to be a girl and not a boy and he didn’t hear me.’

‘Sarah, you aren’t making any sense…’

‘Then I just had to look at one of Anne’s presents and it was a lovely dress and I tried it on and then found Cindy and I fell asleep in the chair. Then I woke up and you told me off and sent me to bed and then I woke up again and I’m really Sarah and not horrible Michael and…and…’

Sarah broke down in tears. She had what she had wanted for ever, but she didn’t understand what had happened and whether she might fall asleep again and wake up as Michael.

Mummy hugged her for a long time and it made Sarah feel a bit better.

Eventually she was able to talk to Sarah.

‘Sarah honey, Michael was just a dream. You have always been our Sarah and we love you so much. It was what we call a nightmare, when things are nasty, but nightmares and nasty dreams go away when you wake up. Its Christmas day and it’s a time to be happy, eat lots of food, fill your belly and open presents. Do you want to do that?’

‘Yes please,’ said Sarah enthusiastically, trying her hardest to forget what had happened, but finding it hard.

They went downstairs and had some breakfast. Anne was going on and on about people hurrying up so that they could open up the presents and it seemed to take ages for everyone to finish eating and drinking.

Sarah was very quiet, as she hadn’t been in the lounge yet and dreaded what might happen. She would go over to her pile, start opening presents and then she would see that she was Michael and not Sarah and the nasty dream would start all over again.

Eventually breakfast finished. They were still in their night things, as was the tradition on Christmas Day, they only got dressed just before dinner.

Sarah followed the others wandering what would happen. Was this a dream or was the other time when everyone thought that she was Michael, a dream?

She went over to the right hand pile. Anne was already opening her presents, tearing at the paper and squealing with glee.

Mummy and Daddy sat on the sofa, holding hands and watching Anne as she tore open the next and the next…

Sarah looked at Mummy who said smilingly, ‘well they wont open themselves, honey.’

She sat down and looked at the first present and then hesitantly opened it. It was a doll, a lovely doll in a pretty, pink dress. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief and hugged it and then put it down. She opened the next present and was in a world of her own. She didn’t hear her sisters squealing, she didn’t hear her parents saying things like, ‘that’s nice, dear,’ or, ‘it will fit you when you are a bit taller.’

There were lots of presents and each one was for a girl of Sarah’s age and not for a boy called Michael. There were board games; some girlie DVD’s lots of clothes which Sarah would love to try on, like skirts, a few dresses, some t-shirts and sparkly tops. Two pairs of shoes, some pink fluffy slippers. Also there was, a bracelet and a lovely new watch and a pair of earrings.

Sarah put a hand up to her ear and felt the stud, she had pierced ears and she hadn’t even noticed!

Finally, all the children’s presents were opened and the girls then watched their parents open their presents too. There were some boring CD’s and DVD’s; socks, slippers and silly underwear and a nightie for Mummy, which looked very thin and see-through and wouldn’t be very warm in the winter. Daddy had a new watch, an iPad and a very silly Rudolph jumper, where Rudolph’s nose lit up and kept flashing!

All the presents had now been opened and the children were told to take everything up to their room.

Sarah was so happy about the presents and her biggest ever present and she went up the stairs and followed Anne into the bedroom. She was dying to try on her new clothes, but knew that she had to wait until later, as Mummy insisted that everyone helped with Christmas lunch.

Anne turned to Sarah and hugged her, which was a surprise, as when pretending to be Michael, Anne didn’t seem to like her very much.

‘Are you happy Sarah?’ she asked.

‘Very.’

‘And did you get all the presents you wanted?’

‘Yes, it was wonderful.’

‘You are much nicer now,’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Open your wardrobe.’

A puzzled Sarah did as she was asked and inside was a parcel in wrapping paper that she vaguely recognised.

‘Open it then,’ said Anne, jumping up and down excitedly, as if it was her very own present.

Sarah opened the present and then pulled the lid of the box.

It was the dress.

The red dress.

The red Christmassy dress!

‘I…I don’t…

‘Do you like it? asked Anne.

‘Y…yes. It was the one I opened in the dream, or was it a dream?’

She spotted a card in the box and picked it up.

It said:

To Sarah, who never was Michael.

Merry Christmas XXXX

With love from Santa.

P.S.

I did read your letter and Anne’s too!

‘I never did like Michael,’ said Anne,’ He was always unhappy and no fun to be around. For the last two years I have asked Santa to give me a sister and now it’s all come true for me and for you. Merry Christmas Sarah!’


THE END

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Comments

You have done it

again Susan , What a lovely sweet warmhearted christmas story that was, Loved the little twist at the end when Sarah finally realised that far from not liking her, Anne too had written a letter to Santa.... Seems that Santa faced with not one but two letters from the same family could not resist bringing Sarah the best christmas present ever... Lovely writing as always Sue thank you for sharing it with us :)

Kirri

Merry Christmas Sarah

What a lovely story thank you so much and Merry Christmas to you.

devonmalc

letters to Santa

gee, why didn't I try that?

DogSig.png

very nice!

thanks

Thank You

... for another one of your beautiful stories. This one was especially warm and sweet and I really liked that her sister Anne wanted the same thing for her.

Merry Christmas and lots of hugs, Sarah Ann

Mixed feelings!!

Pamreed's picture

OK I am happy for Sarah but very very sad!! I tried this when I was little and it never happened of course!
I am sure that all of us had similar experiences during our adolescences. I had to wait until I was older
because my parents didn't understand! That was in the 1950's so I understand now but it hurt then!!
I haven't read any other comments yet, I wonder how others took this.

Pamela

A lovely story.....

D. Eden's picture

And a wonderful premise - I prayed every night, and asked Santa every year to make me like all the other girls. I guess I wasn't a good enough little girl to get my wish.

Or maybe I needed to do something else first.

Either way, next Christmas I hope to finally get what I asked for over 45 years ago.

Dallas

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Sniffle sniffle......

Oh Susan! I'm sitting here all teary eyed now smiling! Wonderful Christmas story hon. Loving Hugs Talia

So Very Sweet, So Very Well Written

Susan,

This was the year I came out to my family. Since then, Things have not been good. In fact, they suck.

It was very heartening to read a story of magic, redemption, and love. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I suppose it's not really a surprise to read such a wonderful story, you ALWAYS do.

Love, Hugs, and Blessings,
Beth

A Letter To Santa

Thank you for your kind comments and kudos, they are really appreciated.

Merry Christmas.

Hugs

Sue

such a sweet story

this story made me burst into tears when I finished reading it.

we know deep in our hearts that santa does exist.

Another Twister

Glenda98's picture

A cute and sweet story with a great twist that you are so good at.

Glenda Ericsson