To Santa, From the Mom Whose Child Asked You to ‘Fix Mommy’s Eyes’
I’m writing this letter on behalf of my daughter, who’s almost 3 years old. Christmas has taken on a new meaning since this tiny blessing came into my life. Being the daughter of a blind mom isn’t easy for her, Santa. She may be young, but she already knows her mommy is “different” from other mommies.
This Christmas is supposed to be extra special for us, because it’s the first year that my daughter actually “gets” it. You see, she knows who you are. She was absolutely elated when we met you at the mall. She is literally bursting with anticipation about your impending arrival on Christmas Eve. But the thing she wanted to do, more than anything else, was write you a letter. And that’s where we have a problem. You see, Santa, we have a bit of a situation.
While decorating our front lawn last week, my daughter and I were approached by a neighbor who asked her what she wanted you to bring her for Christmas. Being the friendly little girl that she is, she immediately rambled off a least a dozen things she’d like to have under our tree on Christmas morning. Our neighbor kindly listened as she eagerly ran through her list. When my daughter had finished, he jokingly suggested that she should ask you, Santa, to fix her mommy’s eyes for Christmas.
You can imagine my shock when I heard such a suggestion from a grown adult to my child! I’m not usually the type to be at a loss for words, but this comment really caught me off guard. I quickly made an excuse about needing to take something out of the oven and took my little girl inside. At first, she seemed to have forgotten about the entire ordeal. She went about her afternoon, playing and watching cartoons, but then it happened.
My daughter asked to write you her letter. We sat at out kitchen table and she handed me her favorite blue crayon.
“Mommy, can you tell Santa I want:
1. The Paw Patroller
2. Doc McStuffin’s Pet Vet
3. Little Tikes Tumble Train.”
And just when I thought I was out of the woods, she paused and added:
“Oh, and fix Mommy’s eyes.”
Well, Santa, it broke my heart, but I had to explain to my little girl that on this particular request, you wouldn’t be able to deliver. I told my daughter that the type of magic you possess only allows you to bring things that can be wrapped in paper and tied with bows. I explained you were not a doctor and could not make her mommy’s eyes better. I told her you are not God. You can’t make me see. And no offense to the big guy upstairs, but when I pray, Santa, that’s not something I even ask for. Really, it’s not.
You see, it’s taken me a long time, but I’m happy with the person I have become. I’ve adjusted to life with my disability. I am extremely blessed to have the family I’ve got, especially my precious little girl. I understand that being blind is one small facet of the person I am. I don’t need to be “fixed,” Santa, because this mommy isn’t broken.
So, on behalf of my daughter, please grant her Christmas wish by bringing every toy on her list this year.
As for me, Santa, I know you’re not real. However, you represent a piece of her childhood and an opportunity for me to create memories that she will take with her into adulthood. I want her to know there is magic in Christmas, just not the kind that involves medical miracles.
The greatest gift I can give my daughter is teaching her that even though her mommy may be blind, I still have vision. I “see” my little girl. Maybe not in the traditional sense of the word, but I “see” her. I know she is kind and good-hearted. I know she is extremely smart. I know she will leave her mark on this world, not because I can see it, but because as her mother, I can feel it.
I love her, Santa, to the North Pole and back! And whatever the future holds for her mommy’s health and eyesight, nothing in this world will ever change that.
Merry Christmas, Santa!
A Blind Mom
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