A Shift in the Season

The heat is stifling and the sweat factor seems to indicate that summer is still at its height, but this is October and as the evening shadows lengthen, and the darkness of night lingers on into the early morning hours, we know that winter is on the horizon.

And the onset of winter is a reminder that Christmas is coming. Christmas, that most wonderful time of the year!

As I scanned the books on offer on the British Council website, one title leapt out at me – ‘Letters from Father Christmas’ by J.R.R. Tolkien. Promptly requested and as promptly delivered, I now have some delight-filled reading in the week ahead.

It was not just the seasonal title that attracted me; I, too, have corresponded with Santa.

And here’s how it came about: a magazine I was browsing through featured a story about how children the world over wrote to and received letters from Mr. Claus. And, fortunately, the article also provided the address. Here is the letter I sent:

Dear Father Christmas:

It is so good to know that you are still around. Some people say that, like Tinkerbelle, you will exist so long as someone believes in you - well we believe in you and hope you'll be there forever.

In this strife torn world, it is consoling to know that at least once a year people the world over pause to remember, even if just for a day, that all men are brothers. Hopefully, sometime, somehow, somewhere this small spark that is kindled once a year will burst into flame and then it will truly be Christmas everyday! Till then, we look to your presence, which symbolises the spirit of love and caring, to make sure the spark is kindled again and again on this very special day - Christmas.

I am too old for toys but I have one request - a small friend of ours would be thrilled to receive a letter from you, so please write to….

May peace and joy come to you and also to Mrs. Claus, the Elves, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder, Blitzen and Rudolph!

Cordially yours,

And here is the reply that was received:

Dear…

I am writing this letter to you surrounded by snow and the Northern lights of the Finnish Lapland. This is my very own place which my gnomes and I call Korvatunturi. Did you know, by the way, why I have always lived in Korvatunturi? Let me tell you a small secret: Korvatunturi is the only place where I can hear the wishes of all people from all parts of the world. That’s why this place is called Korvatunturi – it’s Finnish and means ‘Ear Mountain’ – and if someday you come here as my guest, you’ll see with your own eyes that it’s like a giant’s ear.

You can’t imagine the hustle and bustle going on here right now. From morning till night I read children’s letters and wishes and give instructions to my gnomes who then make and wrap thousands and thousands of Christmas presents. Often we blow out the candles only when we can tell from the position of the Northern lights that it’s past midnight. Then we take a short nap, but at exactly five o’clock in the morning we are up again, spooning up the delicious porridge cooked by Ma Christmas, only to resume our busy work for the day.

This time I have really happy news to tell you. In the midst of the nightless summer night, a cute little reindeer baby was born here. My gnomes promptly named him Baby Rudolf, because his nose glows red like a fire engine. This Christmas, Baby Rudolf is still too dainty to join me on my trip to distribute Christmas gifts, but maybe already next year you can see two red nosed reindeer in front of my sleigh; Rudolf the daddy and Rudolf the baby.

Finally, I would like to remind you of an extremely important thing: please remember to be kind to all people and animals, and to protect nature. If you promise to be nice, I promise to do my best so we all can have a real Christmas feeling in our hearts.

Jaulupukki (which is Finnish for Father Christmas!)

In Germany, they want to abolish Santa Claus as we know him because they feel that he is a far cry from St. Nicholas, the original on which he was modeled. No doubt, the Santa in the stores and malls is all about publicity and sales, and Christmas has acquired commercial overtones that have no real connect with the reason for the season. But that is our fault, not Santa’s. Perhaps a better alternative would be for children to be re-taught that Santa will bring them something only if they are good and do not indulge in the constant, insatiable chant of “I want!!”

It would be a sad day indeed when the big fat man in the jolly red suit is cancelled from the Christmas itinerary. A little bit of fantasy that ‘gladdens the heart of childhood everywhere’ can surely not be so wrong?

And if Santa aka Father Christmas is good enough for Tolkien, he is good enough for me!

Train of Thought

One of my favourite encounters in the Sherlock Holmes stories is when the famous detective follows accurately, as only he knows how, Dr. Watson’s train of thought.

Strange, isn’t it, how one thought can follow another till you end up at a wholly unexpected destination!

I love writing letters and I have penned quite a few in my middle-distance life. Not quite literary standard, they were still heartfelt communications. More than writing letters, I love receiving letters or reading letters written for others, which is why I pounced on the title Dear Girl, Dear Boy when it was offered by the library. It is a collection of letters written to children by their parents or siblings, most of them famous people. My favourite in the collection has to be the letter by James Thurber written in his trademark humour and the one by Virginia Woolf (yes!!) to a child from the child in the adult. The children of earlier times must have been extraordinarily precocious considering the expectations of their parents and the fact that some of the recipients ranged in age from 3 to 10!

The urge to communicate, for whatever reason, spreads across all species. Yes, even plants. Talk to them, ignore them and notice the difference. For us, humans, speech across the miles translated into letters (now sms and email!) which in turn gave rise to that mammoth enterprise, the postal system. Postage meant stamps which in turn gave birth to the world of Philately.

Little bits of colourful, sticky paper with serrated edges, stamps are magical things. They are the first step that sets in train the journey which sees your letters on their way. But more than that, they hold clues to history, natural history, geography, currency, culture, craft, music, the seasons and festivals (this list is very likely incomplete). Anyone who has collected stamps will know how to ‘read’ them. A friend, who is an enthusiast, has created a commentary around the sets in his collection, tracing the monuments in India , among other topics. Then there is also the story behind the creation of the stamp and the creator/artist. Sadly, a few generations down the line, stamps may soon go the way of dinosaurs.

My husband started collecting somewhat late in life. Christmas being his favourite time of year, it falls to his lot to open the cards and so he started noticing the stamps: each one with a different message on a theme, depending on the country of origin. He started preserving them. Word got round and friends and family helped to add to his collection. And what a pretty collection it is too: pictures of Christmas in tiny square or rectangle reminding us of good tidings and great joy. Of no particular value other than sentiment, we look at the stamps together and remember the cards to which they were attached and also their senders.

I wonder if Sherlock would have unraveled this train of thought!