He said, “Come child, come sit on my lap.”
“Have you been a good girl?” he asked. “I don’t give toys to naughty children you know.”
I assured him that I had been good.
“Have you cried? I don’t like crying and pouting.”
“No I never cry. Sometimes I feel like it but I suck it up.”
“Good girl,” he said. “Now tell me what would you like for Christmas? I can have my elves make you whatever trinkets your heart desires.” (It wasn’t until later that I learned that his elves where really children working in sweat shops in third world countries.)
He said, “Come child. Come unto me.”“Oh no I couldn’t.” I said. “I’m not good enough to come into your presence.”
“Nonsense! My love is not conditional on your goodness. I molded you in your mother’s womb. I have delighted in you since before you were born. Just come as you are.”
I came. He comforted me while I poured out my pent up tears.
He lavished me with gifts.....gifts like an exuberance for life, serenity, and the ability to love others freely.
I was left with a choice. What would I celebrate this winter..... Santamas or Christmas.
