Dear Santa,

I’ve waited until the last minute to write my letter this year. You see, I couldn’t see to write before now. The electric company cut my power off and I was living by candlelight. Before then, I had used a flashlight but I ran out of batteries and when it came down to a choice of food or batteries, I chose food. Silly choice to make, I know.

I did manage to find some candles, tucked away in my Y2K box. I had forgotten all about it but there it was, sitting snugly in the closet I cleaned out when I had to move because I couldn’t pay my rent. But no worries: The candles were still good, seeing as how the entire financial world didn’t shut down the way some thought it would when we moved from 1999 into 2000.

Like we ever believed those responsible for developing Super Computers didn’t plan for something as simple as a year changing. P-shaw. They pay those folks enough to make sure we greedy Americans have enough resources at our fingertips to make a mess of everything.

Anyway, for them to not know what was going to happen when 1999 drew to a close would be like the CEO of a huge corporation waking up one day to realize the ship was sinking fast and then being silly enough to think we bought into their disbelief and shock. Pity the CEO for thinking is what I say.

But I digress. I don’t mean to bore you with all of the details of my small life but I had to stop going to see my therapist in July when the price of gasoline went through the roof and suddenly it cost me more and more money to get to work each week.

But I’m not complaining. I’ve had more time to spent with my cats and since I can’t afford to do anything besides drive to and from work, it’s all for the best. Plus, cats are natural creators of heat so when I had to cut my thermostat back to 64 – natural gas ain’t cheap, you know – Cody and Rufus pitched right in and helped keep me warm.

Anyway, I have tried to be a good girl this year. Up until the last half of this year, I had managed to stay in front of the proverbial 8 Ball: paid my bills, even paid some on time, and managed to save a little bit but I had to use that to buy food.

I was hoping I would have enough to at least buy some other necessities – like shoes and clothing. I had thought about starting a 401(k) but we all know how that’s turned out this year. I’d much rather have enough left over after paying bills, fueling my vehicle and buying groceries to squander on something else, like medical care. Silly me.

I am still grateful for the year you brought me the Barbie and the Barbie Dunebuggy. I still remember sneaking down the hall with Walter (yep, it’s been 14 years since he left us around this same time and he was one of your BIGGEST fans, as I am sure you know) to peek around the corner in the kitchen to see what you had left. I could hardly contain a squeal of delight when I saw Barbie and her wheels.

Doug (my oldest brother) and Walter each got a BB gun that year. I’m still a little upset about that but until Congress decides to form an Equal Opportunity Christmas Experience Committee, I’ll just keep my thoughts to myself.

I should preface all of this by saying I have learned over the years to do without. I’m not complaining – just making a statement of fact.

As a bona fide member of the American Middle Class, I have made an art of living from paycheck to paycheck, a sport of seeing how far I can drive on fumes and a game of finding ways to entertain, feed, clothe and educate myself.

I’ve managed to stay just above the poverty level but below the threshold for actually being able to subsist on my own. And I have been extremely successful in staying far from that level where I actually get a taxbreak for working.

But I did come up with a few things I want for Christmas. I’m not sure what you can do at this late date, but I figured it was worth a shot:

w For those who do not have a warm place to sleep, I would like for them to have shelter for at least one night, warm clothes for at least a day and a place where they can rest not only their bodies but their minds and their souls.

w For those who do not know where their next meal will come from, I would like for them to have the chance to feel warm soup slide down the back of their throat and hot coffee touch their lips.

w For those with children who are doing without, I would like for them to have hope of a brighter future, dreams of what they can one day become and a belief that the system won’t always beat them down.

w For those who don’t have presents to give, I would like for them to be surprised by the kindness of strangers, the love of those more fortunate and the understanding of those who have been there and survived.

w For those who have been so beaten down by their own circumstances, I would like for them to have just one door open for them. They’ll know what to do when it happens. No instructions needed.

w For those CEOs who have benefitted from price gouging, golden parachutes, signing bonuses and stock options, I would like you to put a lump of coal in their stocking.

w For those those financial institutions who don’t think taxpayers need to know how their tax money is being spent, I would like you to give them two lumps of coal – one for being so naive to think we don’t deserve to know how our money is being spent and the other just for good measure – and an Accounting 101 book. Sounds like they need to do some brushing up on the principles of running a corporation – and the use of taxpayer money.

And as for me, I can’t think of a single thing I would like for Christmas except this: Peace on earth and good will to man. I have to run now. My cats are Jonesing for some sleep time. Until next year, Santa!

Love,

Patricia



Patricia M. Edwards is the editor and publisher of The Randolph Guide. She can be reached by phone at (336) 625-5576 or by e-mail at pedwards@randolphguide.com. Even at 44, she still believes in the power of believing.