A Christmas Story

Dear Santa,

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I am 12 and my mother is sad. She sleeps during the day and tells me to clean my room when I ask her to play with me. She is crazy that my room be clean, every day she tells me to clean it again. What’s the sense of folding my clothes when they just stay on the floor anyway? I’ve never had a bureau and if I did I would use it for my art supplies. She tells me there will be mice if I don’t pick up the candy wrappers but that only happened once, and at the time there were no wrappers at all.
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My brother Joey is in Ohio and all I want for Christmas is for him to come home. We waited for him for Thanksgiving but he never came. We didn’t know he didn’t have a ride until two days later, when my mother could pay to have her cell phone turned on again. Then Joey called and said he didn’t call us because the phone was disconnected, but maybe he might come for Christmas. I am making a birthday and Christmas card for him that says “To Joey, my brother, I love you."
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Sometimes My counselor asks me if I’m cold or hungry. I always say no I’m fine because that is the truth. My counselor wants my mother to leave fruit out for me so I can decide to have it when I want. My mother hasn’t done that yet, but lately she’s been asking me if I want an apple and if I say yes she unlocks the pantry door and gives me one.

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My mother cleans our apartment everyday. It is spotless. She even takes the oven door off and puts this stuff on it that make it look brand new. We have two couches in the living room, one table and three chairs in the dining room, I have a mattress and my mother and Chris just got a new one. Once my mother lit a candle in the dining room and it changed the way the whole room looked.
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For Christmas I could use some tops and pants. Right now I have four tops and three pairs of pants, but they are supposed to be either blue or beige for school and sometimes I get in trouble because I’m not wearing the right colors. The school counselor told my counselor that sometimes my clothes don’t look clean. That’s probably because I try to wash them in the bathtub but they don’t always dry right and we don’t have an iron so I smooth them out with my hands.
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I draw to keep myself busy and I hope I get some markers for Christmas too. A few years ago we were in a shelter at Christmas and Joey and I got eight presents each. They were all wrapped and my mother was really happy and relaxed. This year I hope I get at least two presents. We didn’t have electricity for two months because my mother and Chris couldn’t pay the bill. Chris rigged up an extension cord to the neighbor’s next door for some of the time, It’s a good thing I don’t mind the cold. And a few times my mother lit candles at night, which was nice.
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When Joey left for Ohio the day of my birthday I wrote in a math book that my teacher fucked herself. The vice principal showed my counselor when she came to see me at school and she asked me why I did that. I started crying and told her because my brother moved away. I thought it was better to write that about a teacher I liked instead of hated, but I hurt her feelings and I told her I was sorry.

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One time the counselor drove my mother and me to a parking lot so we would talk without Chris hearing and I told my mother that I get scared when Chris yells at her. He is jealous and accusing her of seeing other men, even though she never leaves the house. I also told her I could hear them in the bedroom and I didn’t like it one bit. Since then when Chris yells my mother comes in my room and tells me she is not afraid at all, and there is nothing for me to be afraid about. That makes me feel better.

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The thing I would like most for Christmas, besides clothes and markers, is more time with my mother. I want her to be happy. I want us to play crazy eights and laugh. But even more than that, I want Joey to come home. He makes us all laugh.

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A couple of weeks ago I sent an email to perhaps a dozen or so people asking for donations to buy this young girl art supplies for Christmas. I was overwhelmed by the responses: almost $ 150.00 and a wheel barrel of good wishes and kind hearts.

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I wrote this letter to Santa in my writing class, but the facts are true and real. I hope this glimpse touches your heart as well.