Dear Santa,

My name is Tommy. I am 8 years old. My sister Janie is 11. We have a special wish this year. Mommy says to ask you what we want for Christmas. My sister and I talked about it and all we want is for Daddy to get better. He sits in the living room and drinks a lot of beer and smelly stuff and then he gets mad at all of us. He does not like to play with us anymore. So Santa, my sister and I just want our Daddy to get better and be the way he used to be. You can give the toys to the other kids who do not have a Mommy and Daddy to buy them. We have plenty and we just want Daddy to play with us.

 Love,

Tommy and Janie

That letter was sitting on our kitchen table in an envelope that was sealed and addressed to Santa. As I left for work that morning, I grabbed it so I could read what the kids wanted. I would have just asked my wife but she was mad at me over canceling dinner over the weekend with her brother and sister-in-law. So I figured I would grab what the kids wanted on the way home and score points with my wife.

But as I sat in my office that morning relaxing with a cup of coffee after the Dallas/Ft. Worth morning traffic commute, tears ran down my face as I read what Tommy had written. I had let my children down. How many kids would take the chance of asking for the latest toy and turn it into a chance to ask for something like this? Mine would. I could see that in the letter I held.

I called my wife and read the letter to her over the phone. I told her I would get help. I asked her to remove what was left of the alcohol and see what she could find out about getting me into a rehab center. I ran my own business so it would be hard. At least that was what I thought.

My wife, however, had done some research. She knew where I could get into confidential rehab and still run the business from the treatment program and said her brother would even step in to help. He was in corporate sales but could take a leave of absence and help out till I got back.

That was last Christmas. My children were overjoyed that Santa brought them what they asked for: their Daddy. This year it is back to popular toys but that is okay, because this year I will be right in the middle of their Christmas joy.

By the way, Santa?   Thank you. If my children had not written to you, I would not have been able to help make their wish come true.