My Honda Civic was jam-packed full of gifts. The trunk, the passenger seat, and back seats were occupied from the floor to the roof. I made my way to the co-op they lived in feeling a genuine sense of accomplishment. From the day I finished my degree that December until that day I had filled up my car, I worked tirelessly to get as much as possible checked off their Christmas lists. I came with household goods, non-perishables, and gift cards. When I went into their home for the first time, I was surprised to see what was before my eyes. Incidentally, it was in keeping with all of the rich lessons I’d learned throughout my time with that little girl.

For as long as I live, I will never forget the day I first met her. It was a rigorous process for us to finally meet. I had to pass a criminal record check, then fill out and pass an invasive questionnaire. Then, there was a thorough background check followed by an intrusive and expansive interview in person. But, I got there. And there I sat on that winter day. Everything about that day was juxtaposed. In the middle of the rainy winter, in the biggest classroom I’d ever been in, she came in. I’d never met anyone like her.

For seven-years-old, she was tiny. Her hair was just growing in after being shaved from lice. She was wearing an oversized summer frock that certainly had been handed down from a grown woman.

I approached cautiously. “Do you like to bake?” I asked. She didn’t respond. I urged her once more, “Would you like to bake together?” Her huge dark eyes looked confused. “What’s bake?” her uncertain voice asked. She didn’t know what I was asking her. “Cookies,” I continued. “Would you like to make cookies?” Her eyes danced. Not only was it the first time I met her, but it was the first time I saw her fire. Though it just briefly danced through her eyes at that moment, both the sparkle in her eyes and dynamism impressed upon me and marked the beginning of a life-changing relationship.

“Do you like to bake?” I asked hoping it would be an icebreaker.

She didn’t respond.

I urged her once more, “Would you like to bake together?”

Her huge dark eyes looked confused. She mustered up uncertain words,”What’s bake?”

She didn’t know what I was asking her.

“Cookies,” I continued. “Would you like to make cookies?”

Her eyes danced. Not only was it the first time I met her, but it was the first time I saw her fire. Though it just briefly danced through her eyes at that moment, both the sparkle in her eyes and dynamism impressed upon me and marked the beginning of a life-changing relationship.

Our “sisterhood” evolved over those next few years. We baked, painted bird houses, and created clay creatures. We talked of Hannah Montana and all things Disney. We actualized mini dreams in our weekly hour together. Each time we met, she impacted me more than the week before. She was spunky, a dreamer, tenacious. As a young grade schooler, she shot straight from the hip. She said exactly what was on her mind and had a loyalty and love for her family and friends more steadfast than I’d seen in people three times her age.

Each time we met, I couldn’t help but think of how foolish I was when I signed up to be in the program as her big buddy. I enrolled thinking about how much I would be able to give her. And yet here she was giving me insights and teaching me to look at life more fully.

A pivotal point in our relationship was the day I got that phone call. It was someone from our program.

My little buddy and her brother had been put into foster care.

To the best of our program facilitator’s knowledge, our relationship was over.

Grief-stricken doesn’t adequately describe my feelings. I feared for the impact the apprehension had on her and her brother. They had been taken from their parents and their home. Gathering the snippets of information I had, it was for these children’s safety. Nevertheless, she was ripped from everything she know.I scrambled to find them. I don’t remember how I got in contact with their social worker, but I pleaded my case to continue our relationship. It took much longer than I would have liked to hear back, but I got the call saying that they would love for me to take both kids every week. I drove almost an hour each way to see them, but it was worth it. Though my little buddy’s heart was broken, missing her parents, her attitude was one of perseverance and her demeanour remained full of spunk. Every day I picked her up, she had an offering for me. A little bar of unopened soap, a candy given to her that she had saved, a drawing, her spirit of generosity was beyond moving and only became stronger once she left care and returned back home.

I scrambled to find them. I don’t remember how I got in contact with their social worker, but I pleaded my case to continue our relationship. It took much longer than I would have liked to hear back, but I got the call saying that they would love for me to take both kids every week. I drove almost an hour each way to see them, but it was worth it. Though my little buddy’s heart was broken, missing her parents, her attitude was one of perseverance and her demeanour remained full of spunk. Every day I picked her up, she had an offering for me. A little bar of unopened soap, a candy given to her that she had saved, a drawing, her spirit of generosity was beyond moving and only became stronger once she left care and returned back home.

I don’t remember how I got in contact with their social worker, but I pleaded my case to continue our relationship.

It took much longer than I would have liked to hear back. Finally, though, I got the call saying that they would love for me to take both kids every week.

I drove almost an hour each way to see them, but it was worth it. Though my little buddy’s heart was broken from missing her parents, her attitude was one of perseverance. Her demeanour remained full of spunk. Every day I picked her up, she had an offering for me. A little bar of unopened soap, a candy given to her that she had saved, a drawing… Her spirit of generosity was beyond moving and only became stronger once she left care and returned back home.

Their first Christmas back with their mom and dad, I decided to do my everything to give them the best Christmas possible. I had just finished the last four classes in my bachelor’s degree and was already overworked. Nevertheless, I felt compelled to give back to the little girl who continued to have such an impact on my life.

When my family, extended family, loved ones, church members, co-workers and perfect strangers rallied to give them clothing, toys, iPods, toys, crafting supplies, grocery gift cards, Christmas decorations and food, I found the energy within myself to collect, organise, and wrap.

And then, of course, I packed my civic to the brim. I was bringing them everything I had hoped to and way more. I was very much under the opinion I was bringing Christmas to them.

But when I entered into my little buddy’s home, I was overwhelmed with the realisation that, yet again, I had underestimated her and her loved ones. When I first came in, I found a small tree, homemade decorations on the walls, and a handful of presents under the tree. They already had made Christmas for themselves and it was a beautiful one at that. It was apparent that the love between the parents and two children was nothing less than bountiful.

Though I certainly contributed to their gifts and food that year, I didn’t make their Christmas. This family in need really had more of what mattered most. In all of my years with her and her family, I found myself mistakenly thinking I was giving. In the end, the lessons I learned from my little buddy were far greater.

The Holidays are such an exciting time of year to share stories, ideas, and sentiments of the season. If you are a blogger that has a post on this theme, please see below for our link-up!

Welcome to our link-up! We are so happy to have you! Here are your hosts:

Good Enuf Mommy

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Mama by Fire

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Parenting from the Heart

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This Month’s Theme:

Featured Posts from Last Month: 

Love Notes on My Sidewalk by Mosswood Connections

I love this idea from Mosswood Connections about displaying gratitude right on your front walkway! This was a wonderful literal reminder of all the things you and your family are grateful for. What a perfect exercise to partake in with your kids!

Sometimes I’m Not Grateful by Mommy A to Z

Gratitude with a Twist by Kate and Smalls

If you have a blog post that fits with our December theme link it up with us throughout the month of December! We’ll be choosing a weekly featured post to add to our group Pinterest board! Don’t forget to read the rules carefully! More interaction = more fun!

Rules:

– Make sure you follow your hosts on social media (bonus if you this link up a shout out!)

– Please leave a specific blog post link, not just your home page

– You must comment on the one post before your own and a minimum of two other posts of your choice. Remember that genuine interaction and positive comments benefit us all!

– Make sure to check back throughout the week for new posts!

Rules:

– Make sure you follow your hosts on social media (bonus if you this link up a shout out!)

– Please leave a specific blog post link, not just your home page

– You must comment on the one post before your own and a minimum of two other posts of your choice. Remember that genuine interaction and positive comments benefit us all!

– Make sure to check back throughout the week for new posts!

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