**A Letter to Father Christmas and a Twist of Fate**
James stepped into the lift, never expecting that a routine ride would lead to an encounter that would change his winter. In the corner stood a young woman in a grey coat, holding the hand of a rosy-cheeked girl of about five. The child fixed James with large, curious blue eyes before suddenly beaming at him.
“Are you going to work?” she asked, unbothered by the usual shyness of children.
“Sophie, it’s ‘you,’ not ‘thee,’ with strangers,” her mother gently corrected, offering an apologetic smile.
James grinned and nodded.
“Yes, off to the office.”
“Have you written your letter to Father Christmas yet?”
He chuckled. He hadn’t believed in such tales even as a boy, but he wouldn’t spoil it for her. With solemn importance, she handed him a crumpled card. He absentmindedly tucked it into his pocket, bid them farewell, and stepped out into the biting cold.
All day, James tried to push the meeting from his mind—burying himself in work, forcing away thoughts of his ex-fiancée, who had called off the wedding at the last moment. He’d moved cities to start anew, but the quiet of his new flat only magnified the ache.
That evening, wandering the snowy streets, he remembered the card. Fishing it out, he read the childish scrawl: “Be happy and never sad!” Warmth flickered in his chest. He placed it on his shelf—somewhere he’d see it every day.
Two days before Christmas, he rang his landlady to ask about the girl. Mrs. Wilkins happily explained—the mother and daughter lived just upstairs, and the mother’s name was Emily.
That night, James knocked on their door. Emily froze in surprise when she saw him.
“Sorry,” he began awkwardly. “I came for Sophie. Thing is, Father Christmas visited our office temporarily. He asked me to find a girl named Sophie and deliver her letter personally.”
The girl shot out from behind her mother.
“I knew he’d send you! Wait!”
A minute later, she returned with an envelope adorned with snowflakes and hearts, scrawled with: “For Father Christmas’s hands ONLY!”
“Don’t show Mummy—or the wish won’t come true!”
“I promise it’ll reach him,” James smiled.
At home, he couldn’t resist opening it: “Dear Father Christmas, I’m Sophie. I’ve been good. Please bring me a big cuddly bear. And… a new dad. Because I don’t have anyone.”
On New Year’s Eve, James stood at their door again. Emily stared—there he was, holding an enormous teddy bear.
“Father Christmas asked me to deliver this to a very good girl named Sophie,” he said.
Sophie shrieked with joy, hugging first the bear, then James, then her mother.
Emily invited him to stay for the celebration. At the table, Sophie suddenly asked,
“What about my other wish?”
“That one’s… trickier,” James hedged.
“What else did you wish for?” Emily asked softly.
“I asked Father Christmas for a new daddy. But if he’s short on dads right now—maybe you could stay?”
Sophie yawned, snuggling into her bear, and drifted off.
The two adults sat in silence, picking at their roast dinner, blushing, smiling. Outside, snow blanketed the streets, and for the first time in a long while, the flat felt truly warm.
