Friday, Dec. 21, 2001 | 4:10 a.m.
Christmas is a season of traditions. This one is mine, and I'm sharing it with you again this year:
Dear Santa Claus,
It's almost Christmas Eve, and you'll soon be on the road. You won't see this until you return. That's OK. You might need a lift by then.
Regardless of your best efforts, not everyone will get what they want Tuesday.
Some children will awake to no toys or Christmas trees. There will be old people, young people and in-between people who will receive no boxed baubles. Many will spend the day alone.
Some of them celebrate holidays other than Christmas. But many will not celebrate in the traditional frenzy of gifts and gatherings because of poverty, despair, illness and a host of other miseries that threaten to take away the joy of Christmas each and every year.
That's to be expected, and you can't do anything about it.
For as grand as you are, Santa, you still are our creation. And we aren't perfect.
Who would have thought we could become so caught up in your tradition of giving that we would bring about unrealistic expectations and gloom?
Who could have foreseen that in our revelry we would lose sight of what Christmas is really about?
We are ensconced in social obligation, limousine charity and Martha Stewart madness. Our joy or sorrow pivots on presents, feasting and temporary trappings that are practically impossible to ignore.
Many of us believe it is a bad Christmas if people don't have those things. Yet, each year it is more difficult to make sure everyone does have them.
That doesn't seem to be how Christmas was set up. The story of the very first one is a fine tale about how a tiny baby was given the gift of life and how his use of that gift left a profound impression on succeeding generations.
Seems kind of hard to put a bow on something like that, eh Santa?
Even you have to admit life is the best of all gifts. Everybody gets one. It always fits. It's always the right color. No two are exactly alike.
It is precious even when given with restrictions and complications. Its uses are endless. People can do amazing things with it.
Sit by the sea.
Walk on the moon.
Teach someone to read.
Play the piano.
Heal. Learn. Love.
True, many recipients fail to see the gift's value. They forget it's more rare than an X-Box. You can only have one, and there's no way to know how long you'll have it.
Some people have such little respect for their own gift they taint it by seeking to destroy everyone else's.
Others fritter away the gift with worry, fear, anger or idleness. They do nothing with it to benefit others.
Still others cheapen their gift by measuring its worth in terms of the power or objects they accumulate.
That brings us back to you, Santa.
You'll do the best you can tonight, but you won't be able to bring everyone what they wanted. Yet, rest assured that tomorrow each one of us will awake to the greatest gift -- one of endless possibilities. We'll all get one, no matter what we believe.
Whether it turns out to be just what we wanted isn't up to you.
It's up to us.
Land safely.
And have a merry Christmas.
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