A person’s a person, no matter how small. Dr. Seuss
My son Greg is four years old in this memory. Not every word is accurate. The spirit of the tale remains true.
“Mommy, will you write a letter to Santa for me?”
“Why sure.” I grab a notepad. My young son begins his list before I can grab a pen from the drawer.
“Five hundred trucks, puzzles, books—the fun kind that make everybody laugh, and let’s see…”
“Wait a minute. Start again. Five hundred?”
“Right. This list is for the poor kids.”
I complete the letter, see what I have in my pantry to give, and then pray that my son’s request becomes real someday.
terrypetersen 