Naughty (or nice)

Dear XangaLand,

Tonight I shall not be tracking Father Christmas as he flies through the air visiting all the countries in the world.  It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I’ll be entertaining others. 

It occured to me at some point last week that I don’t remember that (surprisingly unpainful) moment when the jolly (Coca-Cola) giant with his white beard and red suit became someone I didn’t believe in.  My nephew is now at that age where he knows Father Christmas doesn’t exist, but he’s not fully sure and thus he has to pretend that he still believes.  I think that’s such a magical moment; it’s the moment in life when you realise that you’re a little bit more grow’d up than the previous year, but you know you’ll always be able to experience the magic of Christmas and the myth of Father Christmas just makes it all so much more exciting.  What’s the point of life (and Christmas!) if we can’t savour the magic of pretence and child-like belief?  Not to mention the presents and the tinsel, the baubles and the (yucky) mince pies, the abundance of alcohol and the Christmas carols. 

Yes, even adults can hear that jolly Ho! Ho! Ho! as Christmas approaches. 

So, XangaLand … May your Christmas be magical and your tree brimming with delightfully fandangly presents.  Enjoy!


Love, KatieF x