Written late at night, wrapping presents and remembering my own childhood, this letter explores the magic of Christmas through the eyes of a parent and the unseen effort, love and intention that turns belief into wonder.

It’s the eve of Christmas Eve. Just two more sleeps until we see if he’s been. 

The past few nights, your mum and I have been wrapping presents, hiding stockings in the basement cupboards, and talking quietly about our own childhood memories of Christmas. By the time you read this, I imagine the secret will be out. You’ll know that the F.C stamp on the presents under the tree doesn't stand for football club and that the person it represents isn’t quite as real as you once believed. 

This week we had a conversation, one that I probably took a little too seriously, about how to organise which presents come from Father Christmas and which come from Mum & Dad. 

When I was a kid, I’d wake up to the weight of something heavy at the foot of my bed. The stocking was the first moment of magic on Christmas morning. Individually wrapped gifts - finger skateboards, mini rugby balls, tiny torches and lego key rings, token oranges and chocolate gold coins. 

Then came the second moment of magic, racing downstairs to see the pile of presents under the tree. The half- eaten cookie. The empty glass of milk. The carrot with teeth marks. Footprints leading from the fireplace to the tree. 

About a week ago, we sat down to write your letter to Father Christmas. 

Addressed carefully: 

123 Elf Lane

CandyCaneVille

North Pole 

HOH OHO 

On your wishlist - a surfboard with wheels, in yellow. 

I guess the conundrum for parents is this. Do we fully commit to the magic, letting Father Christmas be the hero and take all the credit? Or do we dilute it, gently reminding our children that the main present is from mum and dad, with F.C adding a few more for good measure?

My view is that we should give up the thank you. Let our children bask in the awe. Let the magic belong to them. Let Father Christmas be the hero for a while longer. 

Instead, we should encourage something else. Writing thank you letters. Posting them off. Learning early that gratitude matters, not just for gifts, but for the people who show up for us in all the small, unseen ways.

Last night, as i walked past your bedroom and down the stairs, arms full of wrapped presents, I had a sudden flashback. I remembered seeing my dad, your grandad, doing exactly the same thing. I must have been about eight years old. I’d caught him in the act. I think it was the same night I felt the stocking land gently against my leg and pretended to stay asleep. 

And even then, I knew. Not just about Father Christmas, but about love. About effort. About how much work goes into creating magic for someone else. 

That part Leo, is very real. 

Happy Christmas 

Love you always, 

Daddy

But if you are new here and fancy getting to know me a little better, below is my showreel. 90 seconds to show you who I am, what I do, and why I do it.

Click the photo to watch :)

Thank you so much for being part of this journey with us.

P.S.

Here is your magic link to send others who might enjoy these letters also.