Santa Claus sat slumped in his office, the twinkling lights around him failing to ignite any joy. The magic of Christmas seemed to have dimmed in his heart. "What's the point of all this?" he muttered, tossing aside a letter from a hopeful child.

Mrs. Claus watched her husband with worried eyes, her usual radiant smile replaced by a frown. "You've changed, dear. The joy you once had... it's slipping away," she said softly, hoping to reach the man she loved.

The Ghost of Christmas Past appeared, a shimmering figure from a time long gone. "Who are you?" Santa asked, startled. "I am here to remind you of what once was," the spirit replied, leading him on a journey through his memories of joyous Christmases long past.

Santa watched his younger self laughing with children, his heart light and full of wonder. "I remember this," he whispered, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. The spirit's gentle touch brought warmth back to his heart.

The Ghost of Christmas Present, a robust figure brimming with life, showed Santa the current joy and warmth he had been blind to. Families gathered, laughter echoed, and love was abundant. "Even without me, Christmas thrives," Santa observed, a pang of regret softening his heart.

Santa shivered at the vision of a world without Christmas magic, a future where joy was a distant memory. "This cannot be," he cried, desperation in his voice. The spirit's silence spoke volumes, urging him to change his ways before it was too late.

Santa awoke with a newfound determination. He turned to Mrs. Claus, his eyes filled with sincerity and love. "I've been a fool. I'm sorry for everything," he said, taking her hands in his. "Welcome back, my dear," she replied, her smile returning at last.

Santa, his spirit renewed, joined in the preparations with joy and vigor. The magic of Christmas, once lost, now surged through the North Pole, brighter and more vibrant than ever before. "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night," he declared, his heart once again full of joy and love.