CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Santa better have a Kleenex and a backup plan when he reads the letters addressed to him that are trickling into the Cleveland post office.

The view of the world from young letter writers is both depressing and inspirational, laid out in pencil, Crayon and fancy computer font.

Regardless of their presentation, their requests go well beyond anything I've seen advertised on the Qubo Channel.

I generally resist sentimental journeys because they lack authenticity. Nonetheless, this week I visited the large postal processing center on Orange Avenue, not far from Progressive Field, to take a peek the letters addressed to Santa at the North Pole.

I wanted to see what big gifts children were after in this retail-driven season, perhaps spot a trend.

The letters knocked the cynical smile off my face.

Children want rent money.

Children want happiness.

Children want peace between their parents.

Children want their dead grandparents back.

Even among the children who asked for an iPod, a computer or a Harry Potter-themed toy, there were some who had higher priorities.

"What I want for Christmas is for my family to have a house. My parents are backed up on rent and we might not have a Christmas," writes a girl from Toledo.

This girl goes on to note that her family is selling its puppies "to pay someone for rent."

"That's all I want," she finishes.

Another girl made a shorter plea.

"You don't have to bring me any little toys or any clothes. Just please bring me happiness," she writes.

Concerns for basic provisions -- a house, their own room, a car for mom -- overshadow typical material desires. They are acutely aware of pocketbook issues.

"My mom and dad have been out of work for about a year," writes a child.

The point echoed by another: "My parents are not working and money is scarce."

I expect that the foreclosure mess and recent recession are pinching families. I expect that children are picking up on this stress.

Their selflessness caught me off guard.

A Cleveland girl offers a list of desired items that includes socks, glasses, and new shoes. She is oblivious to the modesty of her request.

"I hope I can get well and get out of my chair and walk," she notes casually as she inquires about Santa's health. "I hope you feel better, the last time I went to see you, they said you were sick."

Dr. Denise Bothe, a behavioral pediatrician at University Hospitals Rainbow Babies and Children's Hospital, wasn't surprised by my findings.

"They don't care as much about things as people think they do," she says. "They do look beyond the material things. They want security and stableness at home."

Cleveland postal workers can't provide that. But some workers, led by consumer contact manager LaVanda Fondren, are pooling their money -- as they do every year -- to help out a few letter writers. Fondren plans to visit the home of the girl who says she is chair-bound and in need of socks and shoes.

Some of the letters seem too gut-wrenching to be real, perhaps a ploy to get some money from sappy folks who are better off. But many letter writers don't offer a return address, which would be necessary for such a scheme to work.

I raised my skepticism with Cleveland post office spokesman David Van Allen. He says that in all the years workers such as Fondren have reached out, they can't recall a time when they found a child letter-writer to be phony.

Good. Then I don't feel bad sharing this letter from a child from Oregon, Ohio:

"This year for Christmas I want a Xbox and iPod Touch. But most of all I want my mom and dad to stop fighting and get along for once."

The child ends the letter with a request for a robot that cleans rooms and does homework.

This leaves me hopeful. Hopeful that children still dream, even when their circumstances are tough.