‘Dear Santa’ it begins, since my son is still not quite so English that we haven’t managed to keep the preposterous concept of ‘Father Christmas’ away from his blameless mouth. ‘I hope You ARE WELL’ it continues, sounding a charming note of concern that shows him to be a man of impeccable manners.
Every family that wishes to communicate with St Nicholas has their own tradition for so doing. I knew kids who sent their Christmas letters up the chimney in a puff of smoke. Thence, through a chain of communication too complex for us here to describe, it would find its way to the North Pole and be re-atomised, cinder by cinder, by Santa’s elves.
