A little late for Christmas correspondence, but this Christmas memory is one of my happiest.
Lacking a fireplace at my house, I mailed my letters to Santa Claus at the post office in downtown Fentress, Texas. I always asked for a lot of presents. The list grew longer after I learned to spell and didn’t have to draw pictures. I knew I wouldn’t get everything I wanted, but there was no harm in asking.
I don’t remember writing the letter below, and I can’t decipher the drawings. The first must be a doll; I always asked for a doll and always received one–my mother loved dolls. The green thing next to it has what looks like wheels and might be a doll buggy, but I already had one of those. I wheeled my dolls in it, and also two of my puppies.
Regarding the things that look like nightgowns, tee-shirts, and pajamas, I am flummoxed. I usually received clothing, but not because I’d asked Santa for it. I already had a Davy Crockett outfit, complete with coonskin cap, and who could ask for more? I didn’t expect him to load down his sleigh with boring necessities like sweaters and underwear.
One year the most precious and most memorable gift arrived early: During his busiest time of the year, Santa Claus took time to reply to my letter.
As proof, I’m posting not just his letter but the envelope it came in as well. Judging from the postmark and the reference to Sputnik, I had just turned six.
It takes a lot of stamps to get a letter from the North Pole to Texas.
It also helps when your Uncle Joe is the postmaster.