And Mom would do more, if only she could. She’d buy more, and give more, and love more – of course Mom would.
Feeling tired, inadequate, and oh so worn, Mom became the object of her own newfound scorn.
Not even St. Nick, with all his toys and cheer, could rescue dearest Mom, from all this Christmas drear.
But then suddenly, the strangest thing occurred. Mom found near the glowing tree, a paper filled with words.
It was sloppily written, rushed and without pause. This letter from Mom’s youngest, to Mr. Santa Claus.