Dear Santa letters

Dear Santa,

Please hand over your position in power over to me because you are using it all wrong. Don’t worry Santa, I’m like, fifteen. I’m at that special age where there is only one thing on a girl’s mind: World domination. I’m perfect. You better check your list twice, old man. Well, I’ve done plenty of wrong things in life, but shouldn’t all the good things I’ve done balance it out? Obviously by “good” I mean by just existing and sharing my breathing space with all these commoners. It’s a privilege to even be seen with me. Don’t you know that the Disney princesses were named after me? Trust me; I know what I’m talking about, just give me your power already.

You’re what, a couple hundred or perhaps a thousand years old? It’s time for you to retire, Santa. Anyway, you seem to have missed the whole point of Christmas, but I like what you’ve turned it in to. It’s inspiring. Originally, Christmas was the celebration of the birth of Jesus and a time where everyone spends time together loving and appreciating one another. Then you came and bribed kids with presents. How in the world did you turn this into a day where millions worldwide anticipate your arrival and depend on you for their materialistic-based happiness? Also, don’t pretend to be a nice guy when you have a whole population of elves working as slaves to manufacture these toys and you cage nine reindeer that forcibly carry you with your weight. Yet, you’ve failed to have everyone completely worship you and it’s because you give out presents to these spoiled, selfish children. Doesn’t it make you feel underappreciated that not everyone believes in you? If not everyone believes then no one should get presents. Christmas is all about Santa, right? Listen, if you hand me that power, I’d organize an army with these elves and I’d be sure to let my legend—Santa’s legend would be known for the next 10 generations!

 

Sincerely,

Arielle Jasmine Irada

 

 

Dear Mr. Claus and Mrs. Claus, and To The Elves Whom it May Concern:

 

For Christmas, please bring me nice racing spikes for the spring track season, and a comfortable body pillow to crash on after a long day, and some League of Legends gift cards, and the paperwork to drop Spanish class with, and my license, and industrial lawn mower so I don’t have to do the lawn for my dad (and make the football field look less crappy to boot), and enough talent to be good at everything, but don’t make me perfect so I can fit in, and give me charisma so I can manipulate my way to world-domination— err, I mean have halfway decent social skills.

 

I will not give you anything but milk, carrots, and cookies in return, nor will I permit you to give me fewer gifts so that you can give more to the children of the Philippines, or third-world countries in Africa and Latin America.

 

Why? I can get away with asking you for the most ludicrous gifts, because I know you can’t grant them. And why is that?

 

Because you don’t exist, you bleeding-hearted, disgusting fraud!

 

I was maybe seven when I realized it. You’re the reason ignorance is bliss and children are innocent. You wreck our economy and put the lives of Wal-Mart workers (and the odds of them staying home for Thanksgiving) at risk every Black Friday. But you’re a symbol of my grandparents, and everyone else who likes to buy nice things for people (though I stress they’re gestures of kindness, and as nice as that is, you think I care about Jamba cards and shoes? One can’t buy success or pride).

 

And not only are you a fraud, you’re guilty of millions of charges of home invasion, tax evasion, and false advertising (everyone knows your toys are made in China. Elves from the North Pole? Who believes that?) Maybe it’s a good thing you lied to every kid, making them worship you, as if you were a god, when you were just their families the whole time.

 

Maybe we should stop pretending Santa exists, because not only does it result in a lot of disappointed children, but it’s teaching them to commit these heinous crimes. Santa, you’re a hypocrite: you don’t give children violent media because it teaches them to be violent, but you expect them to not take after your disgusting habits?

 

Best holiday wishes,

Aidan Backus

 

 

Dear Santa,

I just wanted to let you know that there are no longer any hard feelings between us now because I’ve grown up, but you could not convince me to think otherwise as a kid. With that being said, you ruined my childhood! It all started with one simple and clear wish, but ended in disaster. I was a young five-year-old boy with the a joy for Christmas that could not be described. I was told that by being on your “nice” list, I would receive anything I wanted. So, although it was quite hard being a good boy all year long, I did just that. You don’t realize the work it took to be nice, like sharing my Legos with that one kid that I didn’t like or taking turns going down the slide. However, I knew it would be worth it in the end.

The only thing I asked in return for my good behavior was a Nintendo Gameboy Color.The gameboy was not simply a videogame device, it was a masterpiece in my eyes. The only way to become a Pokemon Master was if I had a gameboy and I knew I had to get it no matter what. Every day I’d be on my best behavior, replying to adults with “yes sir” or “thank you ma’am” in hopes of improving my reputation in the North Pole and spreading word of this good behavior. I was confident that Santa would not disappoint me for my wish, I mean you are SANTA for crying out loud.

Well, December 25th came. I woke up early in the morning, running to the tree with reckless abandon. My rectangular-shaped present was beautifully wrapped in the finest and most luxurious Christmas decor fitting for a gameboy. My siblings were pleased with their gifts of cell phones and computers, so I knew I was guaranteed to finally receive a year’s worth of work. Just like an aggressive animal ripping apart its prey, I tore the box with no remorse for human life. The result of a year’s worth of work: a box of tropical fruit roll ups.

Words cannot describe how mad I was at you, Santa. You crushed a young, innocent boy’s dreams and hopes. Now I will never be able to capture all the Pokemon in the world or collect the 8 gym badges; instead, I will stay in school to receive an education. Thanks a lot, I appreciate it.

 

Sincerely,

Tom Vo

 

 

Dear Santa,

For Christmas I would like Anthony Weiner to keep it in his pants. Yes he has left the limelight due to his inability to win the position of New York’s mayor (with only 4.9% of the vote) but I find myself still disgusted with him, and for that matter, politicians like him. But before I go on I must thank him for one thing: making me laugh. You see having a congressman, and eventually a mayoral candidate, post pictures of his junk everywhere starts a campaign of jokes that never seem to get old. It was even better with Anthony Weiner because of his last name. Don’t you think someone with the last name Weiner would refrain from sending his to every woman in her early twenties? The best satire was by “The New Yorker,” whose cover of Weiner straddling the Empire State Building with a syringe in one hand and his phone in the other with news helicopters flying all around is something I won’t soon forget.

But sadly that is the only good thing Anthony Weiner, or politicians like him, has done. Even though he is no longer lying about explicit pictures I hope never to see them again. So Santa, I only ask you for one thing: make sure I don’t.

 

Sincerely,

Emma Garcia

 

 

Dear Santa,

I believe I have been quite nice this year so I deserve a lot. I want some things for myself as well as others. First on my list is electronics. Either an Xbox One or a PS4 would be great, preferably an Xbox One though because I think my mom is going to get me a PS4. Clothes would be great too. I’ve been spending all my money on football and shoes, which is making my clothes suffer. A couple more A+ on my report card would be great too! It would really be great to get a perfect 4.5!!! Anyway, something else on my Christmas wishlist is the perfect girl. One that has a great personality and just gets me. Just a relationship where we can laugh all the time and have no awkward moments. I was thinking of someone like Selena Gomez, Ariana Grande, or Beyonce. Any of those will do. You can surprise me. However, on a serious note what I want more than anything for Christmas is for my mother to be happy. It’s been rough these last couple years but she’s been keeping her head up and staying strong. I just want her to know that I’m proud of her and that I love her very much.

 

Yours Truly,

Darius Livingston

 

 

 

Dear Santa,

Can you pull off a miracle and give me the ability to get an A in Mrs. Duffel’s English class? It is nearly impossible for me to get anything above a B in that class. I cannot stress enough how hard AP English is. I try to write in a more sophisticated manner and use literary devices, but it seems that I nearly always fail to do so correctly. If I were to get an A in this class I would travel to the North Pole and personally thank you. I believe that you can give me something that would help me better understand how to “read like a writer” and help me remember to “read with pen in hand.” It would also help if you could find something that would help me stay awake when I read the chapters that were assigned. It doesn’t seem to matter if I’m interested in the book. If the words are in a small font I without a doubt fall asleep. As you can probably see in this letter I use the pronoun “it” a lot, so could you help me find more specific terms to replace them with? Well, I’m running into another one of my problems with writing again: writer’s block. Yeah, can you help me with that, dearest Santa?

 

Yours Truly,

Brandon Miramontes

 

 

Dear Santa,

Why are you a Marxist!  Do not try to deny it!  You’ve been caught “red” handed! All the evidence points to you having leftist sympathies.  You drive a Red sleigh…you live near Russia, the motherland of pinkies and your reindeer has a red nose!  You have a beard like Marx, come on man!  You are clearly a Marxist!  You believe that every child on this planet deserves a gift, except if they do not obey you! Well all hail Stalin Claus!

How dare you try to expose the children of the world to an ideology that has killed millions in the past century as a governing system! Where do you send the children who resist?  Those aren’t elves at the North Pole.  The North Pole isn’t a happy toy factory, it’s a Gulag camp filled with the children who resisted you, whom you refer to as elves.  Just who do you think you are?  You think you can just travel the world and scoop up all the freedom loving children with your hammers and sickles.  You sick proletariat!

You have been uncovered, Comrade Nicholas.  The people will finally see you for what you really are: a jolly old commie. Your days of turning the world red are numbered.

 

Sincerely,

Zachary Denney

 

 

Dear Santa,

I’m writing (or well typing) this letter to you while snuggled up under my bed sheets and honestly, I really don’t feel like talking to you right now. Seriously, my nose is clogged, my throat hurts, my eyes are watery, and I’m sick of seeing your little Santa clones around the mall when it’s not even Christmas yet. Anyway, since I have to send you a letter I might as well let you know how I feel about the holiday season.

First of all, why did you let them start Black Friday on Thursday?! Isn’t it called Black Friday for a reason? By the time I started my Black Friday shopping, the sale were pretty much over. Come on Santa, get it together! Thanksgiving is supposed to be filled with love and appreciation, not long lines that wrap around the entire store and rude people who shove you out of the aisle for some iPhones. And tell me why some of these so called “sales” aren’t really sales? I went to Toys “R” Us the other day to buy a toy for my little cousin that cost around $21. The next day, I went back to get that exact same toy and it was $30 with a 30% off sale. Now if you do the math, 30% or $30 is $9 and if you subtract $9 from $30 you get $21—which was the original price to begin with! These people are S-H-A-D-Y!

On a brighter note, I have to give you props for lowering those gas prices (or did you make your elves do it, huh?). While you’re at it, you might as well just send some free money, a winning lottery ticket, a can of imported goose liver from France (yum!), and an acceptance letter to Berkeley down my chimney. That’s all I really want from you Santa. I’m sure you’re rich as hell and can afford it anyway.

 

Sincerely from a broke, tired, and sick student,

Jessica Nguyen

 

 

Dear Santa Claus,

Hi Santa (or Mom and Dad). The secret’s out. It’s been out. I’ve been knowing that “Santa” is really you two since third grade but I’ve been playing dumb the past few years (I saw you guys that year reading my letter, leaving the house, and coming back with the items I said I wanted in my dear santa letter). Now, I think it’s time for me to say something to you two. I just want to say… thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve given me. Thank you for not only all the Christmas gifts over the years but for the roof over my head and the food on my table. Thank you for the constant love and support. I may not say it or show it enough but I am appreciative of everything you guys do for me. From buying me Taco Bell when I’m sad to motivating me to do better, you guys are the best. I wouldn’t want to have any other parents. In just little over a year, I’ll be graduating from high school and I’ll be going off to college. It was quiet when Jennifer left for college and, now, it’s going to get a whole lot quieter without me around. Haha.

It’s amazing how quickly time can pass by. When I was a child (I know you guys are thinking, “You still are,” haha), I used to think about going off and living on my own. I thought about the future a lot. Now? I reminisce about the past. I think about all the memories from my childhood and… I miss it. I miss everything. I miss Jennifer being home with us and all of us eating together. I miss going trick or treating with you, Mom and Jennifer. I miss going shopping together and you, Mom, taking forever. I miss looking around Best Buy with you, Dad, for hours. I miss going to Sacramento just to eat Chinese food that we could have easily made at home. I miss the past but I can only change the future. Let’s make old memories into new ones. I love you two, Mom and Dad. By the way, you guys don’t have to get me anything this year. Splurge a little on yourselves for once!

 

Love always,

Jessica Lee

 

 

Dear Santa,

I really need your help, Santa. You’d be doing me a solid if you could give me some strength. I want not the strength to lift a boulder but the strength to accept that I am not perfect and never will be. Perfection is overrated anyway, right?

I want the strength to remain calm when my little brother starts one of his notorious tantrums. I know he means well, and that he’s a good kid; I don’t treat him as well as I should. I want the strength to calm myself even after a severely stressful day and be the big brother that he needs.

I want the strength to be as powerful as I try to make others believe I am. I want to stop covering that “love is so gay” rainbow heart sticker on my binder; one of my best friends gave that to me and it means a lot. I shouldn’t be proud or ashamed of who I am. I want to understand my sexual and gender identity so I can be comfortable in my own skin.

I want to sleep as soundly as I used to. I want to remember how close I was to the unthinkable and I want to cherish the faithful who made sure that I am still here today. Just like Tenente Henry in Ernest Hemingway’s boring brilliant novel “A Farewell to Arms,” I want to love again. I want to feel again. But I need your help, Santa.

Do you have any strength left over in your magic bag? I’ll even take the leftover magic you used on Stephanie Meyer when she got away with that awful Twilight franchise. Please Santa, I’d like some strength this Christmas. And maybe a box of those raspberry Zingers that Hostess used to make—today’s Zingers are terrible! Tallahassee wasn’t the only one who cried when Hostess shut down. Thanks a bunch, Santa!

 

Jacob Williams

P.S. Oh, and if you could just tell “Walking Dead” producers not to kill Glenn or Maggie, that would be great!

 

 

 

Dear Santa,

As always, I don’t know what I want for Christmas. Well, that’s a lie, I know very well what I want for Christmas. I want a car, a new phone, and a new guitar. But like most teens my age, I have no money, my parents won’t give me enough money, and there’s really nothing I can do about that.

I mean, I can always ask for world peace or a solution to world hunger, but that’s a pretty clichéd wish. And it’s not like my wish would do anything to actually solve world problems. I’m sorry if I sound cynical, and completely pessimistic, but after 17 years of living on this planet, I can’t help it. If I can only go back to the days when I used to see a bright side and only the bright side in everything, perhaps this year’s Christmas would be as good as it used to be when I was younger.

But time can’t be turned back. So I guess this year Christmas will     just be another day, like the other Christmases before it.

 

Love,

Jasmine Santos

 

 

Dear Santa,

I know it may seem highly unusual that a 15-year-old is asking something from you but I know that you are powerful and that you have the ability in making wishes come true. A couple of weeks ago, a powerful storm, Typhoon Haiyan, struck the Philippines. It was said to be one of the strongest storms ever recorded in history. Typhoon Haiyan hit the region of the Visayan Islands of the Philippines, which is where my mother’s side of the family lives. A majority of her side of the family is concentrated in Cebu. Fortunately, the typhoon did not affect the region they live in.

I’ve visited the Philippines in Cebu and Bohol five years ago. It is beautiful there and it was absolutely heart breaking for me when I heard the news of the typhoon. When my family was able to contact us, my aunt said that she felt the ground move and felt aftershocks.

What I’m asking you is to please help the Philippines fight through this tragic situation. I am aware of other countries helping out the Philippines and I am entirely grateful of that. Please help fix the damage done by Mother Nature’s destructive storms. Please help supply the families with necessities such as medical attention and food supply. Please bring closure to the families that have lost a loved one. I know it will take a long time to repair the damage but please support them through it all. This is a lot to ask but I know you can do it Santa. Please help regain its strength and hope.

 

Sincerely,

Kirsten Pira

 

 

Dear Santa,

It’s been a rough year—a year highlighted by the Boston marathon bombing, the betrayal of Edward Snowden, the tragedy of the nineteen Arizona Hotshot firefighters, the controversial verdict of the Trayvon Martin case, and the questionable US federal government shutdown. America has had its fair share of issues, as well as several countries around the globe. Some of the top headlines of international events include the Syrian uprising and most recently, the fatal typhoon still affecting thousands in the Philippines. We live life routinely day by day and when something out of the ordinary crosses our path, we aren’t prepared for how it will impact us. We hope for the best, but expect the worst. When times are tough we seem to lose hope and live in a desolate world of despair, but one of the few people we turn to who can revive us and provide us with faith is you, Santa. You have the power to turn the world around and bring brighter days yet to come. The one and only thing on my Christmas list is nothing you can buy. All I want for Christmas is for everyone to be able to enjoy life, despite of what unexpected events transpire before us. Materialistic items mean nothing; what really matters is the joy in waking up every single morning and having the great day we deserve. This will be the best present you’ve ever and will ever give us. Besides, what gift is more satisfying than a priceless one?

 

Sincerely,

Lyna Le