Has Australia made the “nice” list this year? Santa responds.

Dear Australia,

Thank you for your letter. It's always nice to hear from you.

The weather at the North Pole is cold and Santa is getting chilly. I'm sure that the weather is warmer where you are, although (I hasten to add, given all those letters from the Abbott boy) not-statistically-warmer than usual.

I know you've tried to be good this year. You tell me so each year, sometimes adding an "oi oi oi" for good measure, which is quite endearing.

And Santa thinks that you are good. Indeed, at times you have been a model child – engaged, compassionate, courageous and willing to work for others.

This was an important part of your growing up, which you are still doing.

You've always been a good kid around the home – rarely giving Mum or Dad much to worry about. But as we grow up it is how we share with others that truly counts.

For a long time you have been a leader in this. You were keen to share, and very keen to have a good reputation with your classmates.

I think you knew that you were one of the younger kids in the class, and so earning the respect of the bigger kids meant a lot. You did your best to fit in, and if word of an embarrassing incident at home got out, you were mortified.

Lately something's shifted. You seem less keen to share, and you're quite happy to let it be known. I mean, telling those Indonesian and Malaysian girls that you have a problem with unwanted guests? This sort of thing makes you look a bit silly; and while it is not quite naughty, it is certainly not nice.

I don't quite know when this began.

It reminds me of that time when those kids from over the road were struggling in your pool, and you did nothing. Even when that Norwegian boy told you that the kids were sick, you still did nothing.

This all got back to school pretty fast and your classmates were not impressed. But you didn't seem to care, you were proud of it. But proud of what?

You have so much to be proud of, but this sort of thing is not amongst it. And I want you, Australia, to return to the Australia, I knew.

This was an Australia that was not afraid to say "yes" – especially "yes" to helping others.

"Yes" to ending apartheid.

"Yes" to protecting students against the injustices of Tiananmen Square.

"Yes" to massive migrations of people looking for a better life - for a fair go.

Even "yes" to dangerous and costly wars fought in places you hadn't even heard of, yet went to out of loyalty.

And, most recently, you said "yes" to saying sorry for things that had hurt other Australians deeply.

These were things that I know were not easy for you to face. But you did, Australia, and Santa was so proud of you.

That being said, you're a passionate kid, and can be revved up quite easily. This can be a good thing (oi! oi! oi!), but just be careful who is revving you and why, because you can be scared easily, and when you are, you are not your best.

It's for this reason that I'm concerned that you're giving too much attention to that Abbott boy. There's a boy like him in every class – always there to say why something won't work; what we shouldn't do, what's not our problem.

Always there to say, "no!"

Saying "no" is easier than saying "yes." It is far easier to convince people to do nothing than something. And making other kids scared is the easiest thing a boy can do.

But where has "no" ever got you, Australia?

"No" to federation?

"No" to Anzac?

"No" to post-war migration?

"No" to the snowy scheme?

"No" to the Vietnamese? The East Timorese?

It's not you, Australia.

You're a lovely boy. You've got a great home, stable parents, and a good education. You can be extraordinarily generous when you put your mind to it; and it has always, always worked to your benefit when you have.

Do not lose sight of this experience, this legacy, and this heritage.

Do not shy away from it.

Do not listen to guff about a "nice" Australia being a "weak" Australia.

Young Tony seems hell-bent on convincing you that you are hard-done-by; and Santa is worried that you're buying it. I've never seen you so suspicious about sharing your toys since that time when you insisted that you'd only play with the white kids.

(I know you don't like it when Santa remembers these things, but my list is long.)

Don'tbuy it: for these are the wares of the fear-monger, and fear has never got you anywhere, Australia. You owe your greatest development and your greatest gains to the moments when you suppressed your fears, embraced risk, and acted with generosity.

Each time you have done so you have emerged a greater, stronger, smarter, admired and successful child. You are greater today than your grandparents would have dreamed, and have more than even you dared to hope (if you're honest). You should act accordingly.

See yourself clearly, proudly, but honestly.

Understand that the good qualities you have are deeply admirable, because they are universal. You write to me about "mateship;" the French boy writes about "fraternity." They are the same thing.

Come to see that the "isolation" you once feared is, in fact, why you are now the luckiest kid in the class. You have won a lottery of geographic proportions.

Celebrate that the country of your birth as a wonderful place, but be mindful that being born there is not, in itself, your achievement - although it certainly was your Mum's!

It's an act of chance; and that chance has brought you great health and prosperity. Share it with those to whom chance has dealt a different hand.

Above all, stop being scared. It's hard to be good when you are.

You are still young and can be scared easily. But you can be good; so good. In fact, that is your story, Australia. It is a wonderful story, which you have greatly enjoyed, yet suddenly fear to read the next chapter.

But there is nothing you need fear from being good, my dear Australia; so take a deep breath, and turn that page.

With love,

Santa.