Day 43- Dear Santa. I have been a good girl this year.

How does it feel to be the child of the poor relations that no one wants to invite? Do you know your parents are losers and tweekers? What do you think about when you pass the house of that big Christian family with all the cool reindeer light sculptures on their lawn next to the big "Yes on Prop 8" signs still standing? Do you think they really mean it when they ask you over for a night of Bible stories and caroling?

Apparently you do. Apparently, they did.


I was standing there in the hallway when they invited you in, talking to the Older Brother about his new band. You smelled like sick wet dog and mildew, and I heard your stomach growl as we both smelled the gingerbread baking. I wish your dad didn't hate us so bad that you can't come over our house. I wish it wasn't so hard to be good to people right under our noses, literally.

The girls called you upstairs where they were writing birthday cards to Jesus and I overheard you composing your letter out loud to Santa (because, if you've got nothing, it must be because you're not good, right? Santa is Jesus when you're a poor kid) and I remembered the hymn "Jacob's Ladder" a second before I thought to take this picture.