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Dear Father Christmas, 亲爱的圣诞老人： So my friend has asked me to write to you... I have to confess it's been hard to know what to say. Mainly because like most adults I feel preposterous asking anything of you because our time with you is surely done. Now we get our own presents, control our own fates, take responsibility for our own actions, and live in the world we have created... so it's not for us to turn around and plead for your help with the environment, the migrant crisis, the NHS, education, food banks, human rights, fundamentalism and wars. Though God knows we need all the help we can get with all these man-made problems and more. 我的朋友叫我写信给你……我真的不知道该对你说什么。主要因为跟大部分成年人一样，我觉得跟你要东西似乎很荒谬，因为我们和你已经没有交集了。如今我们自己给自己买礼物，掌控自己的命运，为自己的行为负责，并且生活在我们自己创造的世界里……所以我们没有理由找你帮忙解决这些问题，比如环境问题、移民危机、NHS医保系统、教育、食物银行、人权、原教旨主义和战争。尽管上帝知道，我们需要各种援助去解决这些人为的危机和麻烦。 And it's not that you aren't compassionate and full of joy. You're great. In spite of you being changed into different colours for corporations and being bastardised to represent materialism gone mad - despite probably originating in some season based pagan druid ritual a million thought miles from requests for spontaneously combusting hoverboards... Kidadults cynically pointing this out after having their moment of belief in you are wasting everyone's precious time. Because you are not for them. You are for the children. Children who need some magic in a world where the borders between innocence and responsibility, playful imagination and cold, adult obstacles are continually shrinking. | 
