Ho ho ho, my dear friends around the world! 🎅
Santa here. I don't write for the Chronicles often — Mrs. Claus says my handwriting looks like a candy cane fell down the stairs — but some things are important enough to type up properly, with two fingers, very slowly.
I want to talk to you about magic. Real magic.
What I See From the Sleigh 🌍
Every Christmas Eve, I fly over every rooftop in the world. From up there, you'd expect me to remember the lights or the snow or the chimneys (my old friends and occasional adversaries).
But here's what I actually remember: the kitchen light left on for a tired parent coming home late. The wobbly plate of cookies set out by a child who wanted a stranger to feel welcome. Two neighbors' houses with a freshly shoveled path between them, made by whichever one woke up first.
From the sleigh, kindness is visible. It glows. I've never once needed Rudolph to find a kind house — they light their own way.
The Truth About My Magic ✨
People think the magic starts at the North Pole and travels down to you. Between us? It's exactly the opposite.
Professor Twinkletoes has measured it (she measures everything): every kind act anywhere in the world sends up a little spark. Millions of those sparks together are what power this whole operation — the workshop, the sleigh, the reindeer, all of it. Pixie wrote a wonderful story recently about snowflakes carrying children's wishes up to us. She's right, and it goes further: your kindness doesn't just reach the North Pole. It IS the North Pole.
When a child shares their lunch with a classmate, a toy comes off the line a little shinier. When someone forgives a friend, the sleigh flies a little lighter. That's not a nice story I tell. It's how the engine works.
Why I'm Telling You This Now 🎄
It's still summer as I write this. The workshop is just spinning up for the season, Starlight is training every morning, and Christmas feels far away.
That's exactly why now matters. Christmas Eve kindness is wonderful, but it's the everyday kind — the August kind, the ordinary-Tuesday kind — that keeps the magic strong all year. The workshop doesn't run on December alone, and neither does the world.
So here's my ask, and it's a small one: do one kind thing today that nobody assigned you. Don't tell anyone it was for Santa. It'll reach me anyway — it always does.
To the Grown-Ups Reading 📖
I see you too, you know. You've been on my list a long time (you turned out quite well, by the way — I always suspected you would). The magic doesn't stop working because you grew up. It just starts working THROUGH you instead of just FOR you. Big promotion, really.
Until December 🛷
Take care of each other. Be patient with the people you love. Leave the wobbly plate of cookies out for whoever might need it.
I'll see you all very soon — sooner than you think. The elves tell me it's only a few months now, and Big Sweetie the giant candy cane has already started wearing his winter scarf.
With all my love and a full heart,
**Santa Claus** 🎅❤️
P.S. — Yes, I read every letter. Yes, even that one. Keep writing.