I stared into vacant eyes as I took my seat next to her nervous, guarded frame. She wore a zip-up hoodie, shorts, and flip-flops on this below-20-degrees December day.
Christmas was just around the corner, and while most kids love talking about all of the joys and lights and sweets and gifts that come with this time of year, this ten-year-old didn’t.
While most kids had a Christmas tree lighting up their living room, she didn’t. She didn’t even have the living room.
While most kids had gifts from mom and dad that they were eagerly awaiting, she didn’t. She didn’t have anyone that she called mom or dad.
While most kids would wake up in their homes, with their families, on Christmas Day, she wouldn’t. She was homeless.
The home and the family she used to know, way back whenever, had never been a supply of joy or lights or gifts. Not at Christmas, not ever.