by Camille, age 9, writes to Santa from Nancy, France, and asks who Père Fouettard really is.
Dear Santa,
My name is Camille, and I am 9 years old. I live in Nancy, France, where her grand-père still tells the old legend about three lost boys and a butcher every single December.
Dear Camille, that is exactly the sort of detail I like to hear about Nancy. It tells me you are paying attention to the world around you, which is the first step toward being a thoughtful person. Keep noticing things like that.
Santa, I have three questions. First, who is Père Fouettard? My dad says that is what some people call you where they live, but I do not really understand who that is.
Père Fouettard is what folks in France affectionately call my old colleague, and in most every way, he and I are one and the same spirit of Christmas kindness, just wearing a name that fits the local language and the local customs. Every culture has shaped its own version of the story over the centuries, but underneath all the different names, it is always the same idea: someone who shows up in the cold and dark of winter to remind people that generosity matters. I am honored to answer to so many names.
Second, my grandpa was telling us about the Moselle River valley, which stretches out beyond her town toward Germany. Do you fly over that on your Christmas Eve route?
Every single year, without fail. The moselle river valley, which stretches out beyond her town toward germany is one of the sights the reindeer look forward to most, and I always tell the new reindeer on the team to watch closely as we pass over, because there are not many views in the whole wide world quite like it. Rudolph usually slows down just a little right there, and I have learned not to rush him.
Third, is it true that in in France? My family was talking about it at dinner and I want to know if it is real.
It certainly is true. In eastern france, saint nicholas travels with a stern companion named père fouettard, who reminds children to behave and mind their manners. I think that is a wonderful thing for a family to talk about at the dinner table, because customs like that are what make France feel like France, and they are exactly the sort of thing that keeps a community close together, especially in the winter months.
Thank you for your letter and your good questions, Camille. Keep noticing the world around you, keep asking honest questions, and keep being kind to the people in Nancy. That is the whole spirit of Christmas right there. Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas, Santa.
Your friend,
Camille
Nancy, France
P.S. Do you and Père Fouettard ever compare notes on which one of you has the harder route?
Constantly. So far it remains a friendly and entirely unresolved argument.
