Shantanu Datta, a father who recently moved to Saskatoon with his family in November 2023, shares a heartwarming tale in this First Person column. To learn more about First Person stories, check out the FAQ section.
On a pleasant Tuesday afternoon, my 11-year-old daughter surprised me with a handwritten letter.
“Dad, could you please mail this for me?” she asked.
Being unfamiliar with traditional letter writing, especially on paper, her request caught me off guard. After returning from school, finishing her meal, and retreating to her room quietly, she emerged and handed me the letter.
“It’s a letter to Santa Claus,” she explained, sensing my confusion. “I’ve mentioned our recent move to Canada to excuse the delay. But I believe he’ll receive it promptly, given our proximity to the North Pole. The postman can deliver it swiftly since there’s no snow hindering the way yet.”

Snow, or the lack thereof, has become a recurrent topic of conversation for us. I examined the sheet torn from her practice notebook. Amidst her extensive wish-list was a plea to Santa for “Some snow please (lots, if possible).” This line evoked memories of our preparations for the journey from New Delhi to Canada and the excitement my daughter held for experiencing a genuine snowy Christmas.
Her anticipation stemmed from the images she saw online of snowy Saskatchewan while we finalized our departure from Delhi. Unlike the artificial “snowflakes” fashioned by children in many parts of India using cotton wool, she longed for the real winter wonderland.

Our expectations were influenced by Hollywood portrayals of people engaging in snowy festivities, donned in winter gear, or celebrating indoors, evading adversaries on Christmas Day. These cinematic scenes painted a cozy picture of individuals sipping hot cocoa by crackling fires or shaking off snow in warm cafes.
This imagery encapsulates the essence of a “true” Christmas and New Year’s celebration, doesn’t it?
But how can Santa navigate his sleigh through snowless landscapes? Will he land on bare concrete? I envision him resorting to public transport or hailing a cab.
“How will he manage to carry all those gifts?” my daughter questions.
As the mild weather of a December afternoon in Saskatoon unfolds, the reality sets in. With the forecast hinting at a snowless Christmas and potentially a snowless New Year, my daughter remains hopeful, dreading the possibility of resorting to cotton wool during our next shopping trip.

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