The children of the world write to me each year. They tell me what they want, what they dream of, and sometimes, what they fear. Their letters pile high in my workshop, each one a snapshot of hope and imagination. But this year, their words hit me differently. Their wishes weren’t just for toys or games, but for things far beyond my power, like safety, warmth, and for their families to stay together.

So today, it’s my turn to write back. Consider this my letter to all of you — to children and grown-ups alike. It’s time to reflect on what I’ve seen this year and what we’ve become.

A WORLD ON FIRE

Let’s not sugarcoat it. The world in 2024 is struggling. As I mapped my delivery route this year, I had to confront grim realities that even a sack of presents couldn’t fix. There are neighborhoods I simply couldn’t visit. Not because I didn’t want to or because the children were bad, but because there’s nothing left.

Homes destroyed by war, entire streets turned to rubble, and families scattered like leaves in a storm. The children who had lived there absolutely deserved joy, but because Santa doesn’t land in places where his sleigh would be met with gunfire instead of laughter. Where craters replace chimneys, I can’t risk the safety of my reindeer.

CLOSER TO HOME

While Wisconsin is still distant from the North Pole, the northern state’s winters are something I could relate to before global warming. In 2024, Milwaukee stood as a symbol of the divides we just can’t seem to bridge. I saw communities rally after tragedies, proving once again that in the darkest moments, people can be each other’s light.

But I also saw violence in neighborhoods where kids shouldn’t have to worry about surviving another day, let alone a holiday. Some parts of Milwaukee glowed with the warmth of tradition, lights strung across porches, and children nestled in bed. But just a few streets away, boarded-up homes and food insecurity told a different story. I see you, Milwaukee. I see your strength. But I also see your struggles.

A QUESTION OF PURPOSE

Flying over so many regions, my sleigh felt heavier than ever in 2024. Not from gifts, but from the weight of my own questions. What’s the point of delivering toys to some kids when so many others are left behind because adults care more to play their political games?

How can I sprinkle joy on a world where so many children go to bed hungry or wake to the sound of bombs instead of carols? This isn’t self-pity, it’s my reality. I’m Santa Claus. My job is to bring magic and hope, but even I can’t ignore how far we’ve drifted from the ideals of peace and goodwill.

And no, I’m not saying the world is all bad. I see the kindness. I see the communities that rise up, the parents who sacrifice everything for their kids, the volunteers who step in where governments fail. But the cracks in the foundation are undeniable, and they’re spreading.

WHEN MAGIC MEETS REALITY

The thing is, I’m not naïve. I know my role. I’m not here to save the world, that’s everybody’s job. And if you are reading this, yes, you are part of everybody and it is definitely your job too. I’m here to remind you of what’s possible. It is up to you to go out and do the work, each day.

The joy I deliver in a single night is just a spark. It’s up to you to keep that fire burning. Also, understand that is a metaphor, please do not actually set anything on fire.

In recent years, it feels like too many of you have forgotten what goodwill looks like. Some of you are too busy tearing each other apart to notice the rubble you’re standing on. Others are too wrapped up in power games to realize the people you’re supposed to lead are drowning.

THE LIGHT IN THE DARK

While I’m not here to lecture, you are still getting on from me. If you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering, “What now, Santa?” The answer is simple, look around. Really look. I’ve seen kids in refugee camps sharing what little they have to make someone else smile. I’ve seen Milwaukee families with barely enough to get by donating coats and toys to their neighbors. I’ve seen people in bombed-out towns planting trees — not because they’ll live to see them grow, but because someone else might.

That’s what gives me hope. That’s why I still do what I do. Because for all the destruction, for all the greed and division, the kernel of goodness is still there. It’s in every child who dreams of something better. It’s in every hand that reaches out instead of pushing away.

MY CHRISTMAS WISH

So here’s my wish this Christmas … stop waiting for miracles. Be the miracle. Be the neighbor who helps rebuild. Be the leader who chooses diplomacy over destruction. Be the parent who teaches their child that kindness matters more than winning.

And to the children reading this, keep dreaming. Your dreams are the blueprint for a better world. Write your letters, sing your songs, and believe in magic. Not because you want to be a wizard, but because such unseen forces inspire us to create something better.

In the aftermath of this Christmas as a New Year dawns with 2025, let’s remember what the holiday is all about. It is not the shiny wrapped presents, not the sparkling LED decorations, and not the appearance of kindness that humanity is capable of just for one day.

Christmas is the simple act of showing up for each other. That’s the real magic. And if you can’t find it in the world around you, then be the one to bring it. I’ll keep doing my part, one sleigh ride at a time. But I need your help to make it mean something.

With love and resolve,

Santa Claus

© Photo

Dall-E