Santa’s Resignation Letter
I have debated whether or not to begin with my trademarked “Ho Ho Ho”, but I wish to convey the gravity of the matter.
Let me begin by assuring you that I have had nothing but good experiences, warm feelings, and a reassurance in the good of humanity for all one-thousand-years I’ve had the honour in being Santa Claus. Indeed, it has been a vocation to spread joy to children around the world. There have also been difficulties, though. Countries I once enjoyed visiting no longer exist. The struggle for my elves to keep up with expectations. And the Sisyphean effort in preparing for Christmas every year. But despite these hinderances, I have loved all of it. Which is why, with a heavy heart, I must announce my resignation. This is my notice.
I appreciate the distress this will cause. It has been a decision not made lightly, nor without the considered input of Mrs. Claus, the elves, and my life coach. You deserve to know what has brought about this unexpected mid-career shift and my plans going forward.
When I began my mission, I was a wandering nomad, travelling from place to place, exchanging people’s hospitality for the only service I could offer; gifts. My memories have degraded due to age and time, which can be a kindness, but from what glimmers of my old life I retain, I have always had a precognition when it came to people’s wishes. This sense of reading people never trespassed into deeper needs nor darker desires, but it didn’t need to. People, thankfully, are easily placated. Children were the easiest, for they wish for a world they can mimic traffic with toy cars or domestic lives with dolls. Keep a child happy and you would have given adults exactly what they wanted as well.
Overtime, my reputation meant people were no longer kind for their own sake, but rather for transactional purposes. It became clear I needed to distance myself from my fellow man in order for their true character to emerge. By this time, I had enlisted the assistance of the elves to help create toys and keep track of things for the naughty-or-nice list. They followed me as I exiled myself to the North Pole, building my workshop where we fulfilled the wishes of the world. Or… at least where we tried.
Over the centuries, it’s been questioned why I don’t visit everyone in the world, especially the most poor and deserving. I have been doing this for eons, and I have many stories. I’ve escaped death so often I’m sure he has a personal grudge against me. I have been honoured as a guest by emperors, kings, and presidents. And while I am happily married, there were a few contenders for the title of Mrs. Claus back in my handsome days. Know I am speaking from a place of experience when I say that you should only go where you are welcomed.
Not everyone celebrates Christmas. Some are even Christian, ironic enough. Respecting their cultures, I restrain myself. I’m sure you too would be upset if some stranger broke into your home, even with presents. But even where I am welcomed, I am not remembered. Time has a hazy memory. People forgot I existed, forgot I was the one who gave the gifts. It started off slowly. I went to one house and was amused to find they had bought gifts. I chuckled to myself and simply replaced them with identical ones we made at the North Pole. Now that’s all we do; an exercise in futility. And like with those who don’t celebrate Christmas, sadly I can’t go to those who can’t either. You can understand how insensitive it would be for the parents to see someone bring their children happiness when they have failed. You’re doing them no favours humiliating them.
In a way, that’s part of the reason I am resigning; I am not needed anymore. Or at least, I am not what you need. I rewarded people for their kindness, but perhaps I should have seen myself as enabling your worst trait; transactionalism. You grew accustom to me, and yet it has done little to encourage you to emulate me. I now realise that for things to change, I must force you to change. I have been around enough children to know you’re all capable of growing up. You’re never going to solve the issues facing you if you’re wondering what I think. I can’t spend another one thousand years as something to fear, holding your Bluey plushie hostage.
I understand this is hard. I’ve gone back and forth on this decision, and even had fights with Mrs. Claus about it, but I’ve made up my mind. This is my last Christmas. Any letters received after the 24th of December will be incinerated upon arrival unread.
Before I give my closing statement, I’d like to apologise for the creative choices I’ve made in the past that have not aged well and do not reflect the man I am today. First, my helpers in Europe who have appeared in public in blackface. This was a poor decision which I take full responsibility for. Santa’s Workshop Incorporated is an equal opportunity employer with hardworking and diverse elves. And second, it has come to my attention my former assistant, Krampus, has had serious abuse accusations made against him. I was unaware and uninvolved with any alleged instances and have long since parted ways with him due to creative differences on how to punish children.
I will finish up now as it’s movie night with Mrs. Clause (tonight is The Babadook). For those wondering what I’ll do with my golden centuries, I’m going to pursue a long-held dream of mine… penning a rock-opera about space toads warring with moon mice in the distant future and the two teenage lovers from either side. It’s called “Of Moon Mice and Toadmen”.
Remember that throughout history, despite being the coldest and darkest time of year, Christmas is about people coming together to comfort each other. It’s not your presents that matter, but your presence.
So, for the last time…
HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!
#HI
