A letter I sent to my kids when they were just old enough to realise that you could never find Clark Kent when Superman was around!

Dear Sarah and Samantha,

It’s been a while I know since I came to Chapel Haddlesey to see you.  Ho ho ho!

I used to drop your presents off on wintry Christmas Eve; I’d scoff a sherry and mince pie then hurriedly we’d leave.  We wouldn’t want to get espied by chigglers such as you and any way the night was long with lots of work to do. 

How I miss those mince pies from all you guys and gals, and carrots for Old Rudolph and all his reindeer pals.  But children do get older and sometimes even doubt that there’s a Santa Claus at all. “There’s no such thing,” they’ll shout; and, truth to tell, I do confess assistance I enlist from miles and miles of mums and dads to purchase all your gifts.

But all I wished to say to you now that you are both grown is I’d be glad to help again when you’ve kids of your own.  Feel free to write on their behalf, Sarah and Samantha.  I’m always here to give my help.

Merry Christmas,

Santa.