Several years ago, I got tired of reading Christmas letters about perfect children and perfect spouses and perfect lives. While the sentiments in letters like that are heartfelt and well-intentioned, I always ended up asking myself, "Okay, but where's all the bad shit that happened?" I felt like I was always getting only half the story.
So, instead of simply reporting all the great things that happened in the past year, I decided to include Christmas essays in my letters. Most of the time, these Christmas essays are not about perfection. They are about the struggles of being human. That's what really interests me.
So, send Saint Marty your real Christmas stories--the ones with blocked sewers and house fires and lost jobs. Saint Marty promises to pray for you.
The Christmas Letter
by: John N. Morris
Wherever you are when you receive this letter
I write to say we are still ourselves
In the same place
And hope you are the same.
The dead have died as you know
And will never get better,
And the children are boys and girls
Of their several ages and names.
So in closing I send you our love
And hope to hear from you soon.
There is never a time
Like the present. I lasts forever
Wherever you are. As ever I remain.
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