Dear Santa, You're Fired...

Now before you accuse me of being a Scrooge, just hear me out.

I have nothing again the jolly messenger of cheer and his herd of reindeer. I'm just convinced that this Christmas, my "Wish List" is above Santa's pay grade.

For starters, I would like to make a few returns. Like my dad's recent diagnosis of Amyloidosis (really bad blood disease). Oh, and his subsequent diagnosis of Multiple Myeloma (really, really bad cancer along with really bad blood disease). No thank you, we're not interested.

I'd like to ask for Miss M to be cured of her RSV,
my friend to see justice revealed in her difficult situation,
my sister to have her house, family & normal life back,
my 8-yr old neighbor to not have to spend part of his holiday in the hospital for chermotherapy,
and my brother-in-law's family to get everything back that they lost in their house fire.

You see, I think I've realized that health, wealth, security and material possessions can be taken from us in an instant. And no wish list or well-meaning fat guy with a fluffy white beard can really bring me what I most desire this year.

And while I really would take any of the things on my list, I find my ONLY comfort in knowing that my requests have not been whispered into the ear of my local mall's Santa Claus.

They've been presented to the ultimate Giver of all Good Things. And in His perfect wisdom, He will provide whatever He knows I need most this year.

Now if Santa insists on bringing something down the chimney for me, a pair of pearl earrings wouldn't take much room on the sleigh.

I'm just sayin'...