An adult woman writes down her wishes for Christmas to Santa Claus.
Dear Santa Claus:
My name is M'buti Ayala Moore-Sormiento, and I am 26 years old; and I live in Nashville, Tennessee, with my husband, Roberto, my three-year-old son, Jubaki Miguel, and our two twin babies, Eshe' Ayala and Kibarake Miguel, who will be a year old on February 14, 2004.
I am writing to you, Santa, because I have some things I would like for Christmas.
First of all, Santa, I would like to have a better year, healthwise, for me. I have been struggling with low blood pressure since being sick with that flesh-eating disease several years back, and some days I am so dizzy I can barely lift my head off the pillow or get out of bed; and that is no way to live. I have a family to raise, and I can't spend it passing out! Plus I get so nauseated, and to me, there is nothing worse than being sick to my stomach! Secondly, I have this dead leg of mine (I can't use it ever since I have had the surgery to stop my pain), and it only gets in the way, and trying to walk on my walking frame or on my sticks leaves me so tired by the end of the day I can barely function! I also keep falling over my sticks, and I am so bruised up half the time!
Secondly, Santa, I would like to be able to do more for my family. I have a husband who works at the hospital as a nurse in the Burn Ward, and I also have three small children I have to take care of, and with my being sick a lot of the time, I feel like I am a failure to them. I worry that Roberto will find another woman when he is at work or out on his errands, and I fear that he is going to leave me. I don't know what I would do if my husband left me; I would be absolutely devastated! I know he MUST worry about me CONSTANTLY, and I also know that he is probably wishing at times that he had a woman who was in better health or a woman who could take care of herself or the kids instead of having me; I am nothing but a big burden to him, and it really upsets me!
Thirdly, I would love to get a better job. I love working at the newspaper, but between working five days a week for eight hours a pop and then having to come home and deal with my family is very taxing on me, and my health has suffered horribly because of it. I am in so much unrelenting pain due to my fibromyalgia I can't function, and between trying to walk on my walking frame (or on my crutch sticks) or trying to take care of my family AFTER work, I am so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open, and half the time I am in bed before eight at night! I don't get to see my husband leave for work, and then, when I DO wake up in the middle of the night I get scared because I think someone has kidnapped my husband or he got into a horrible wreck or something worse! Being scared is NO way to live; I have been scared for far TOO long, Santa!!
I know this list isn't much, but Santa, I really don't know WHAT I want for Christmas, and it is so hard to have the Christmas joy in myself when I feel so bad all of the time! HOW can I possibly be happy when I feel so crappy all of the time?? But if you CAN get ANYTHING for me, make sure you get the children lots of toys they can play with (my husband will tell you what they need; I really don't do a lot of the shopping!) or get my husband money for his HUMMER (it is expensive to fill up a HUMMER with gas!) or make sure his HUMMER doesn't break down somewhere, that would be fine with me!
Thank you for listening to me. I hope you don't think I am stupid for me, a grown woman, writing to a person like Santa Claus! Only little kids are supposed to believe in Santa, NOT adult people like me!
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A delightful story of a needy family of squirrels who are kicked out of their village, because of their tattered clothes and nests.
Abandoned and in search of friends to accept them, they travel many roads of r
Christmas - only days away; plastic snowmen and glowing reindeer adorn the lawns of neighborhoods all across America. All is calm, all is bright, and yet there is something tragically wrong about this Christmas night.
With swift passage thr
Dear Santa Claus:
