While Max watches his movie and Mom keeps reading her book, I take a shower, careful not to use too much hot water because we have to pay for it, and I think about Connor. I don’t mean to, but he keeps popping into my mind. There was this look in his eyes today—concern? Maybe I just imagined it. We’re not even friends, but there was just something in the way he looked at me that made me wish we were. Connor seems like someone you could talk to.
At 8:30 I go in search of my brother, who has abandoned the movie on the TV. I find him in his bedroom, intently working on something. He’s emptied his crayons on the bed and used several sheets of construction paper. There’s also a box of envelopes that he must have stolen from Mom’s desk.
“What are you up to?” I ask, leaning on his door frame.
“Writing my letter to Santa.”
I lift an eyebrow. Max is in first grade, which means he can write simple words, but I can’t imagine him writing much of a letter yet.
“Can I see it?”
He nods and hands it to me, looking impressed with himself. I have to admit, he’s done a good job. He decorated the borders of the paper with little drawings of candy canes and Christmas trees. Only half the words are misspelled. My heart breaks as I read it out loud.
“Dear Santa. I am a very good boy and I never get in trouble. I really want a dog please. I will take care of it and I will love it very much. Please bring me a dog. I don’t care what kind. Thank you, Max.”
My eyes fill with tears and I struggle to hold them back. “You want a dog?”
He nods enthusiastically. “Dogs are so cool and they’re so sweet and you can teach them things.”
“Dogs are expensive,” I say, sitting on his bed.
He shrugs off my words. “Not if Santa brings you one! Then it’s free!”
Oh, my heart breaks. I hate this. Max’s little smile is so cute and he’s so excited and he has no idea that in real life Santa doesn’t exist. He won’t get a dog this year. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to buy him a few toys, but definitely not a dog.
Max takes the letter back from me and folds it up and shoves it in an envelope. On the front of the envelope, he’s written:To Santa, From Max
“Can I have a stamp? I couldn’t find them in Mom’s purse.”
“Did you ask Mom for one?” I say.
He nods and makes a frowning face. “She said they cost too much money to waste.”
I bite my lip and think quickly. “Well, Mom must have forgotten about Christmas magic.”
Max’s eyes widen. “What’s Christmas magic?”
“Well buddy, it’s really cool. Because Santa is magic, you don’t need a real stamp. You can draw your own stamp.”
“Of course!” he says, grinning. “That makes sense.”
He grabs a crayon and draws a little square stamp in the corner of the envelope. “Will you mail this for me?”
I wish I could find a way to talk him out of this, but I can’t stand to make him sad. I nod and take the letter. “Sure thing, buddy.”
Later, I’m still wide awake even though it’s midnight. I keep looking at Max’s letter to Santa that’s sitting on top of my backpack. Max had insisted I put it there so I wouldn’t forget to take it to the mail tomorrow. It’s useless, writing a letter to someone who will never read it. I would give anything for Santa to be real, for Christmas magic to be real. I just want Max to have a good holiday. I’m old enough to understand that times are tough for my mom right now, but Max isn’t. He’s still a kid, and he deserves to be happy.
I sit up in bed and reach for a notebook. I know it’s stupid. I know it’s silly and pointless.
But I decide to write my own letter to Santa. I draw a stamp on the envelope and I put it on top of Max’s. Tomorrow, I’ll drop it in the mailbox and I’m sure the people at the post office will throw it away because there’s no real stamp. But at least my wish will have gone out into the universe. Maybe somewhere, someone is listening.
Dear Santa,
This is Jayda. I’m seventeen years old, and I haven’t believed in you since I was a little kid. I hope that won’t influence your decision to grant my Christmas wish. I don’t want much for Christmas. I don’t need gifts. I don’t need things. What I need is a little out of the scope of what your elves can make in their factory. I want my mom to find a job. I want her to be happy again. I want my brother Max to get the gift he really wants this year.
If it’s not too much to ask, I’d also like a boyfriend. A decent one. A nice one. Someone who won’t leave me for another girl.
But if it is too much to ask, that’s okay. Just please get my mom a job.
