Dear God, I try to be good

that’s what I want you to know

I want my soul to be

pure as winter’s snow.

But when Timmy pulls my hair

being good is hard to be.

Guess that’s not good enough,

trying to just be me.

And remember when Bobby pushed me,

down to the ground I fell so fast?

Just couldn’t help myself when I grabbed his foot

And he landed on his ~ss!

Oops, my turn to wash my mouth

with soap as Momma would;

if she knew I used that word,

that really ain’t so good.

I really didn’t mean to hurt Clara

when I told her she was lazy,

but all she does is sit around

and stares at TV like she’s crazy.

Can I tell You ‘bout the times I help

my Mom with my little sister?

Even help scrub her clothes

‘til I’ve worn on my hands a blister.

And then there’s the time at the grocery store

when another lady’s baby was crying;

then I played with her ‘til she stopped,

and You know ‘bout that I’m not lying.

I’ve got something to ask, and

I can’t lie to You, would be sad:

You know Santa’s coming soon…

would a li’l white lie to him be bad?

I won’t ask for much:

For me just a few little toys;

something for Mommy and Daddy,

and sister and brother to bring them joys.

If I tell Santa only the good things

that I do throughout the year,

leave out the things You know ‘bout me,

is there anything I should fear?

Did I feel you touch my shoulder?
Was that Your sign of yes?
G’night, God, I’m gonna go write my letter to Santa,
And tell him I’ve done my best.

Oh, by the way, God…

We’re gonna have a birthday cake for Your Son, Jesus

and we’re inviting You to come join us on Christmas Eve.*

© Jackie (Micke) Jinks, December 2006

*A long-time tradition in our family for Christmas Eve.