Ten-year-old Simon lay on his bed at the orphanage writing his letter to Father Christmas, except at the moment his page was blank. His young brow was furrowed thinking of what to write. It wasn't toys that he wanted. Slowly the words appeared on the paper. In his very best handwriting, he began
Dear Father Christmas,
I don't want nothing special, just a mum and dad like my very bestest friend at school Daniel. We play together and he doesn't treat me different 'cause I'm an orphan. He tells me that it's not my fault my mum and dad died when I was a three. Me and him do lots together and he tells me of what it is like at his home. He has a mum and dad that love him. They all go out together and when he's sick his mum and dad really love him and cuddle him. They tuck him into bed every night and read him stories before he goes to sleep.
I have been home with him sometimes when I am allowed by the orphanage. We go to his room; he has his own, not like the orphanage where it's six to a room. His bed is soft and comfortable. His mum and dad are so nice to me when I am there. His mum cooks lovely food and he has lots of toys to play with. I cry when I get back to the orphanage.
So, Father Christmas, please send me a family to love me. I don't want any toys and I have been a good boy all this year.
Your loving friend
Simon
xxxxxxxxx.
The next morning he posted his letter on the way to school. Of course, there wasn't a stamp on it, just addressed to Father Christmas North Pole.
* * * * *
The local post office passed it on to the local Kriss Kringle organisation that looked after such letters and they in turn took it to the orphanage. The Manager read the letter and gave a wry smile. All the children wanted the same thing. She had hardened herself to the sadness that an orphan can bring to the world. She wished every day for families for the children in her care.
* * * * *
Christmas Eve came around and Simon was looking out of the window of the dormitory. It was raining hard, so no white Christmas again this year. A car he knew pulled into the gates. He ran downstairs just in time to see Daniel and his mum and dad go into the office. Had they come to take him out for the day? That would be fun. He waited by the door of the office waiting for them to come out again when the door opened and his bestest friend said to him.
"Come in Simon."
Simon followed Daniel back into the office.
"Hello, Mister and Mrs Saunders." He said.
"Hello Simon," Mrs Saunders said, but it's not nice to call your mum, Mrs Saunders."
Simon thought hard not taking in quite what Mrs Saunders was saying, and his best friend was just standing there grinning like a Cheshire cat. Finally, Daniel spoke.
"I am your brother Simon."
Even more confused Simon suddenly felt dizzy and he fainted, his brain not able to cope with what was being said.
As he came too, he knew it was a dream. What did Daniel say, he is my brother?
He felt strong arms around him lifting him up.
"Sorry about the shock Simon but we have adopted you. I am you new dad, Jane is your new mum and Daniel is your new brother. You are part of the family now."
Simon's eyes opened in shock. "Really, you are my family?"
"Yes Simon," Daniel called out. "Since nine o'clock this morning."
Just then one of the assistants came into the office with a cardboard box containing Simon's meagre belongings.
The orphanage manager said her final word.
"Enjoy your new home Simon and be happy." With that she gave him a kiss goodbye.
The four of them left together as a family all holding hands to the car.
Mum, dad and two sons Daniel and Simon.
* * * * *
That night after the boys had been tucked up in bed, Mr and Mrs Saunders sat chatting. "I never realised that Daniel was so lonely until I read that letter to Father Christmas." Mr Saunders opened it and read aloud.
Dear Santa,
My name is Daniel Saunders, I am a good boy, but I am very lonely on my own. I only want a brother to share with. This Christmas can you please bring me a brother? I have a best friend at school that is an orphan and is always sad unless we are together. Is it possible for you to make him my brother so we can both be happy?
Thank you.
Daniel Saunders.
12, Edge Terrace.
Brighton.
"Thank God we saw the letter. Thank you Kriss Kringle for giving it to us."
At midnight with their windows open, and cuddled together, had the boys been awake they might just have heard an old man with a white beard shouting out Ho, Ho, Ho!
Happy Christmas. From Sam to everyone.