❄December 2: A Snowy Reset and a Tender Question ❄

A blog by Mrs. Claus – Life With Santa

Oh my darlings, my dears…

I must begin today with a heartfelt confession. I made a promise—one I truly meant—to sit down every day in November and write to you. But here we are, December 2nd, and well… it’s been many days (no, I don’t care to count) since my last post.

I could give you a whole North Pole sleigh-load of excuses—and goodness, many of them would be valid! We’ve had flurries of activity, literal and otherwise. A massive fresh snowfall surprised us earlier this week. We’re deep in crunch time, and some of the elves discovered a critical shortage of parts for a few favorite toys. Once the materials finally arrived, we had to sweet-talk a few of our retired elves to come back and lend a hand. (They grumbled at first, but they’ve been singing carols ever since!)

But as true as all of that may be, I don’t like excuses.

I love the feeling of keeping a commitment. It gives a sparkle to the day—a feeling of self-discipline, order, and delight. So, my sweet sugarplums, I offer you my sincere apologies for my little vanishing act. And I thank you for your kindness as I dust myself off and return to the keys today, with every good intention to post daily again for the next few weeks.

I love fresh starts, don’t you?
When we pause, take a breath, and see our failings for what they are, we often feel a little wave of sadness—but also a sense of renewal and resolve. Like our Savior, who cheers for us to succeed, yet knows our human hearts will falter from time to time. His mercy is new every morning (Lamentations 3:22–23), and that gives me such hope.

Failures, if used wisely, can gently guide us to better paths. Sometimes they remind us what matters most.

A Letter From a Curious Young Darling 💌

Just this week, I received a question from a thoughtful young girl—one I’ve been asked many times before:

“Dear Mrs. Claus, why don’t you and Santa have any children? I think you’d make the best parents ever! It’s obvious you love children.”

Oh, sweetheart. What a tender, beautiful question.

Yes, my love, Santa and I always dreamed of having children. In our earliest years of marriage, we prayed and hoped and dreamed of a little one, actually the dream was of many little ones, toddling around the cottage. I imagined braiding tiny pigtails or reading bedtime stories by lantern light while snow whispered at the window. We imagined what it might be like to share milk and cookies with our very own son or daughter.

But God had a different plan.

Despite our prayers and our longing, He chose not to give us children in the way we expected. At first, it hurt—yes, even up here at the North Pole, we’ve known heartache. But over time, we began to see something beautiful unfold.

The Father who knows all things didn’t take something away from us… He gave us something even bigger than we ever dreamed:
A family made up of every child around the world.

Each child who dreams of Santa, each tiny believer who leaves out cookies and writes letters—each one is a gift. A treasure.
And oh, how deeply we love you all.

The elves have become like dear nephews and nieces (and occasionally, a few eccentric uncles, if we’re honest). And the laughter of children, even from afar, fills our home more than you could ever imagine.

The Bible says, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

And truly, His plans—though they may seem contrary to our own at first—are always better than anything we could have written for ourselves.

So yes, dear one, we would have loved to raise a little Claus or two, or ten. But instead, we’ve been given the immense joy of loving millions of you. Every smile, every giggle, every kind act you do in the spirit of Christmas… it fills our hearts beyond measure.

After the Storm ❄

Now, before I sign off, let me tell you what Santa and I did the other morning.

After the surprising snowstorm had passed, the world fell still.
The fresh snow hadn’t yet been trampled by North Pole delivery carts or joyful reindeer hooves. It was utterly peaceful.

So Santa and I bundled up, and took one of our favorite kinds of walks.

Just the two of us, our boots crunching softly, the world hushed in white. The snow still clung to the trees, sparkling like diamond dust in the morning sun. It’s moments like those, in the hush after a storm, when gratitude wells up the most.

I took a few photos to share with you below. I was unable to get any of Santa feeling a bit mischievous, because he tried to toss a snowball at me. (He missed, for the record.)

More to come tomorrow, my darlings. For now, I leave you with this:

Whether your life looks like you hoped or not,
Whether the garden of your dreams is covered in snow,
Or the plans you made have taken a curious turn…
Trust the One who writes a better story than we ever could.

With love, forgiveness, and warm mittens,
Mrs. Claus