I Got Just What I Wanted

I can make a fairly short list of the things that I wanted to get this year that I didn't get. Trivial things, really. Upgraded models of computers and cameras and such, although I already have everything I need to get the job done. Trivial, as I say.

Here's what I have that I wanted and got:

Friends near and far, old and new.

Music, art, literature.

A beautiful world.

Progress on the things that matter.

A little cat who might have died two years ago but didn't, and will come downstairs any minute to jump on my lap and curl up in peaceful happiness.

I've known lots of rich people in my life. Millionaires, billionaires—all that. It must be nice to have so much money—if I did myself, I'd travel more, and have nicer things than I do. But you know what? Cross my heart and hope to die, the things I listed above, I wouldn't take any money for. You couldn't buy them from me no matter how much money you had. The cat is on my lap right now, purring, and I wouldn't sell him for any price. He's my cat, see? He belongs to me, and I belong to him. That's just how it is. If you understand that, well, then, Merry Christmas to you. The cat is purring. Music is playing. And I'm a rich man, in the ways that matter to me.