This was my daughter’s letter to Santa one year:
Dear Santa
For chrismas I want spechel things. I want:
bitty baby. Bitty baby car
seat. Bitty baby stroller. Potty train baby. Chrismas party with my friend. Jump ropes.
That’s all.
Love,
Rosetta
PS. If
heavenly father visits you Tell him I have qwuoschons.
About those questions.
I marvel that she had questions to ask.
Because that is how you get answers.
I hope she has lots of questions and she keeps asking and asking. And if Santa can help, she’s enlisted him
too.
These words are on the front of her notebook:
Consiter
the lileys of the filld.
I gather from these two literary masterpieces, the following:
"I have questions and I trust Jesus. He will take care of me."