When I was 8, my class had a Christmas gift exchange. My family couldn’t afford a gift, so I wrapped one of my dad’s old books and gave it to a classmate. In return, she gave me the latest Barbie. When she saw my gift, she started crying.
The next day, her mom came to school, looking serious, but when she saw me, her expression softened. She handed me a bag filled with gifts—the Barbie’s car, a Ken doll, and new clothes. I was overwhelmed.
Then, she shocked me by inviting me and her daughter to lunch. It was my first time in a restaurant. Her daughter, once upset, was now kind to me, and we became close friends, still in touch at 24 despite living in different towns.
That mother’s kindness was my first real Christmas magic. Now that my family is stable, I pay it forward every holiday season by helping a child in need.