One of my favorite Christmas memories is writing a letter to Santa each year.My mom would give us the big toy catalogues from who knows where, and my siblings and I would thumb through the pages folding the corner tops when we found whatever desired gift, and then we would create a list from those tabbed pages. I loved Santa. I believed he was real until I was 11, and my mom couldn't stand watching me defend something she knew wasn't true so she broke the news on the way home from ice skating practice one day. I was crushed; I think I still might be just a little. The idea of Santa is magical to me, and I'm so glad my kids love him. I think we might have one more year of innocence with Mya--she's already starting to question everything.
I loved the girls' letters and drawings to the big bearded man and was so glad I snapped a picture of them before the letters made it to the mail box.
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"Be kind and considerate with your criticism... It's just as hard to write a bad book as it is to write a good book." Malcolm Cowley