Dear Santa: You're coming soon, boy what a mess I'm in, shopping's not done and we're all out of vin; cookie jar's empty; the turkey truck's stuck in the snow and we've nowhere else to go. Sorry to ramble on Santa, but that's what I do.

Dear Santa:

You’re coming soon, boy what a mess I’m in, shopping’s not done and we’re all out of vin; cookie jar’s empty; the turkey truck’s stuck in the snow and we’ve nowhere else to go.

Sorry to ramble on Santa, but that’s what I do. Do you suppose a 1930s Depression tactic might help us recover from the recession? Remember it, asking everyone what they can do without.

I can do without electric razors to shave underwater, pens that write in space and distant European relatives burning tons of good oil to gather in the thousands like migrating birds, screeching and hollering at us about our “bad” oil, before the “democratic” debate begins.

I suppose we’ve entered the realm where every story has three sides, yours, mine, and the facts. Sorry for the digression Santa, and I do have a request: I wonder, could you give them some brooms to sweep their own doorsteps first? Oh, and on the broom handles maybe print the Christian tenet, Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Ah, but I’m off track, it is the time of goodwill, and the holders of lots of good will are usually children, children with a message they often don’t know they’re carrying. This year it’s Danielle. Mom and Dad promised her a Christmas puppy, and so Mom took her to the animal shelter to choose one in need of a home.

“We’ve been back a half dozen times,” Mom told the volunteer, “and she keeps saying she’s looking for puppy size. I’m so frustrated.”

Danielle had been in the back where the puppies lived, still looking. She returned, saying no size. Mom and Dad were ready to give up but agreed to a final try. Cradling pup after pup in her arms she came to the last one, cradled him in her arms and shouted with joy, “Mom, I found the right puppy, it’s the puppy sigh.”

“But it’s the same size as all those you’ve looked at,” puzzled Mom replied.

“No, Mom, not the size, the sighs, when I held him in my arms, he sighed. Don’t you remember? When I asked you one day what love is, you told me love depends on the sighs in your heart, the more you love the bigger the sigh. When I held him in my arms, he sighed. You see, Mom, he loves me. I heard the sighs in his heart.”

The two women looked at one other knowing their thoughts were the same: “And a little child shall teach them.”

And one did!

A long, long time ago.

Is it time to remember, and to join Danielle and her puppy and sigh, collectively?

We also should remember the other Santas we can’t do without, all year long. They’re on the road again, and again and again, day and night, hot, cold, wet, windy, blizzards, weekends, holidays, whenever, wherever, whatever and however they’re on the road. If they weren’t, we’d be cold, hungry and walking.

A tip of the Christmas hat to all the truckers on the road, any time of the year, and another tip of the holiday hat to all their support staff who keep them rolling.

Where would we be without them?