This will be the first Christmas that we spend without my father, which will be doubly hard because it was his favorite holiday. Through the generations, both his mother’s and his father’s side passed down to us the traditions of a Dickensian Christmas, and my father always insisted that we follow a specific set of rituals. Because he did, we continue to do so.
One of his Christmas traditions was a Christmas poem, which he published in the town newspaper and also sent out as a Christmas card. In recent years, his poems have been letters from Mrs. Santa Claus, maiden name Aurora Borealis. Because of climate change, increasingly my father included references to the melting polar ice caps. Here are a couple of letters from Mrs. Claus that appear in his collection Letters from the Moon and Other Cool Places. The moon, it turns out, is the only place free from the many problems found on earth. As such, it functions as a dream of peace and good will. ’Tis the season to be hopeful.
Letter from the North Pole
It was only last year, on Christmas morning,
That my husband, Nick, got a global warning
That our factory’s foundations were getting shaky–
So this year, when our basement turned into a lake, he
Went down to the station of the Polar Express
To buy us all tickets for a change of address
To a possible nice little, tight little island
Like maybe Never-Land? Or some high and dry land
Where we’d be all together and still get around….
But most of the islands were taken, he found,
“So how about Vegas? Or even L.A.?…”
Well, thanks…Anyway,
With pontoons on the sleigh
And the reindeer in rain gear, we were ready to go
–As Blitzen said, “with the flow”–
To all those developing, damp neighborhoods…
And we went! En bateau!
Over the slush and the urban sprawl
It was splash away! splash away! splash away, all!
But this time next year,
If we’re lucky and dry, you’ll undoubtedly hear
From us at Floating Island or the Land of Oz…
Yours, Aurora Borealis
(Mrs. Santa Claus).
The Floating Island, incidentally, shows up in Voyages of Doctor Doolittle. But the Santa’s end up on the moon instead. Here’s Aurora’s letter from their new establishment there. The poem begins with a passage from the George Meredith poem “Lucifer in Starlight,” which you can read in its entirety here:
Letter from the Moon
Around the ancient track marched, rank on rank,
The army of unalterable law.
Dear Friends,
You remember, back in the days of yore,
We woke to a flood on our basement floor,
And the guys in the toyshop were getting neurotic
As the climate turned, in a word, aquatic.
So we had to depart—and the rub was to where?
Since there weren’t any livable places out there
That weren’t overcrowded…So I and the deer,
And Saint Nick and the boys, we ended up here
In the one place we found—up here with the stars–
Where there weren’t any land mines,
Or billions of cars,
Or wars, or pollution,
Or the waving of fists
By millions of mad
Fundamentalists.
No kidding, it’s the
Quietest place we found
So we built us a factory
Underground
Where we’re making the gifts;
And no one gets sick.
And Nick has the time
To read Moby Dick,
And I have the time
To work on my poems
Between our space flights
To whatever homes
Are left from the bombs
And the fires and fears,
As we soar to the Music
Of the Spheres….
So Greetings from the “Army
Of Unalterable Laws!
Yours truly,
Aurora Borealis
(Ms. Santa Claus)