Dear Santa,

I know there is a recession this year and you cannot afford for your elves to work too many miracles for fear they might unionize, but I have lots of things to ask for. You do not have to grant everything I am wishing for but I will just hand you the whole list so that you can pick and choose which ones are more feasible for you.

On the week after Christmas, I really would like, for Bama to win a championship trophy and beat the Irish with delight.

The crystal football in Nick Saban’s hands, no one would argue the win — not even Lee Corso on ESPN.

Now Santa I know, I have been spoiled with the two recent titles, but if you could just get me one more, you would be my idol.

Don’t you worry, I know there are more important things in the world to ask for, than a few national championship rings. I want a lot for my new home of Selma to change, things to look up and for things to rearrange. After writing all of these stories for the last almost-year, I have things that I care about and passions I hold dear.

First if downtown would wake up from its slumber, rebuild, revive and build up again with thunder. With new apartment lofts and boutiques and stores, I know we are getting closer but Santa — I just want more!

If you could shut up all these clubs, oh St. Nick that would be great. Guns, thugs and alcohol lead to so many bad mistakes.

Don’t get me wrong you know I love my eggnog and dancing, partying, singing and just good time romancing. But we cannot let these events keep occurring, my pencils are all dull from the news coverage we keep giving.

If you could deliver some metal detectors and a sense of responsibility to club owners in town — I’m sure you could see the crime rate go down.

In Selma there is also lots of clanking and clatter, too many voices and way too much chatter. Everyone wants change but somehow no one seems agrees on the “Who, what, where, when and why” but Santa you know what we need to get by.

We need love and compassion — can you send that down the chimney? If we all try to be understanding maybe the officials won’t get so finicky.

And Santa that brings me to my very last wish, a wish for all that would bring us bliss.

You cannot solve all the problems you really just bring toys to girls and boys. But maybe, just maybe residents will hear one voice.

Maybe we could all march to the beat of one drum. The beat of revival coming down from above. Maybe we could sing together one tune. The tune of faith, hope and love — Santa you can’t get it to us too soon.

Sincerely, Ash