I could just see the top of the desk. I was five years old. I had to keep rising up on my tipee-toes to
get a good look at what my older sister was doing. It was my first Thanksgiving Break as I was a
kindergartner. The light shone on the
paper as my sister wrote the letter.
When she summoned me into her room I hadn’t a clue as to
what she was up to. She was my senior by
seven years and in my mind she knew everything.
I caught glimpses of what she was up to and saw that she was intent on
her task. She wrote with what seemed
like ease and grace to me…I longed to be able to write someday.
“What do you want for Christmas?” she asked, “from Santa”
she added.
“Santa?” I replied, “You’re writing to Santa?”
Without missing a beat I told her that I wanted an “Oscar
the Grouch” puppet. She obliged and
wrote it down.
That’s all I can recall of that time with my sister, writing
to Santa. I don’t remember anything else we did that day. I don’t remember the first Thanksgiving Break
other than that select moment. In fact,
I don’t ever recall opening the present on Christmas morning from Santa and
finding my wish had come true…a real-life “Oscar the Grouch” puppet.
I still have Oscar.
My kids play with him now. He’s
beat up and is losing one eyebrow; but he’s still with us…after 41 years he’s
still with us.
What strikes me the most about this memory is what's always
remained in my mind over the years; the few short moments I spent with my
sister writing the letter. As much as I
loved “Oscar the Grouch” I do not remember receiving him as a gift…it’s almost
as if he was always there. As much as I
loved Thanksgiving and Christmas as a kid, those memories do not seem to hold a
candle to the memory of me and my sister, writing the Santa letter.
I told my kids the story of the letter writing. I then realized that the memory always came
to me whenever I saw Oscar. I realized
that my admiration and trust in my sister was most likely cemented that day
some 41 years ago.
My sister has left this world. She did so in the early summer of 2009. At 48 years young she lost her 25 year battle
with various cancers. Although she no
longer spends time with me she is still right there with me.
And as the Holiday Season comes upon us the memory of the
“Santa Letter” reminds me that it is the relationships that really matter; the
people that surround us, making lasting impressions. Time marches on and things change. Memories hold a moment as it was, untouched
and unfettered, for us to relish in its delight.
As you go through this Holiday Season I hope that your
family will create long-lasting memories that will travel over time with your
children. That these memories will prove
be a part of them forever; holding the moments they have with you in their
mind’s eye while fueling their heart’s desires.
Mr. Casten
Nov. 26, 2013
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My daughter, Ava, with Oscar (Nov. 2013)

