On Christmas Eve, a wealthy but lonely Dennis stumbles upon a lost eight-year-old boy in the town square. Tormented by memories of his own childhood, he soon discovers that his life is changing in ways he never expected.
The square was full of lights and laughter. Children were skating around on rollerblades, their cheeks reddened by the cold. Couples were walking hand in hand, close together, warm and smiling. A small carol singing group was gathered on the corner, near the big tree, their voices warm even in the cold air.
I took it all in, trying to feel… something. You’d think a successful guy like me, an orphan who grew up to be a businessman, wouldn’t feel out of place here.
But here I was, alone, just like any other holiday season. I’d had a few relationships over the years, but my partners saw the dollar sign, not me.
Suddenly, I felt someone bump into me, and I turned to see a young woman lying on the ground, looking at me with a smile. Her laugh was infectious and, for a split second, I couldn’t help but smile back at her. She was beautiful, with bright eyes, with a spark that caught me off guard.
“Oops,“ she laughed, still sitting. ‘Sorry. I guess I’m not as good on skates as I thought.’
“It’s okay,” I said, offering her a hand to help her up. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
But just as quickly, a tall guy came over, frowning as he pulled her away from me. “Hey, buddy, what’s going on here? Are you hitting on my girl?”
“No, of course not,” I said quickly, backing away, hands up. ”I was just helping her up, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well don’t,” he muttered, shooting me a withering look as he pulled her away. He glanced back once, uttering a quick ‘Sorry,’ and then they disappeared, swallowed up by the crowd.
I stood there for a moment, shaking my head. ‘So much for miracles,’ I muttered. I turned to leave, ready to go home.
Then I felt a little tug on my coat. I turned around, half expecting to see that girl again, but instead I found myself looking at a boy. He couldn’t have been more than eight years old, with wide brown eyes and a nervous look. He was holding a small keyring with a trembling hand.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, in a soft, polite voice. ‘I… I need help. I can’t find my family. I haven’t seen them for days.’
The words hit me like a blast of cold air. ‘You… you’ve lost your family?’ I asked, lowering myself to his eye level. ”When did you last see them?”
The boy looked down, shuffling his feet. “I’m not sure. Although I’ve been looking for them for a while. But… but please, sir, don’t call the police.”
“Not the police?” I asked, taken aback. ”But you’ve been lost for days…”
He shook his head vigorously. “No, not the police. I’ve heard that sometimes, when parents don’t have much money, the police take the children away. And… and my family doesn’t have much. They’re poor. I’m afraid that… well, that they’ll take me away too.”
I looked at him, feeling a pang of something I hadn’t felt in years. I knew what it was like to be a child worried that they would take you away.
“All right,” I said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. ‘No police, I promise. We’ll just… sort this out. All right?’
He nodded, a look of relief on his face. ”Thank you, sir. I didn’t know who else to ask.”
“Call me Dennis,“ I said. ‘And what’s your name?”
“Ben,’ he replied, squeezing the keyring a little tighter.
“All right, Ben,” I said. “Let’s get you home. Do you know where you live?”
He nodded. ”It’s a bit far from here. I can show you. I think I remember.”
I called my driver and we waited in the cold as he approached the sidewalk. Ben got in first, climbing into the back seat. I followed him, closed the door and looked at him. “Well,” I said, trying to strike up a conversation, “what kind of keychain is that? It looks very special.”
He looked down and circled the small silver heart on the keyring with his fingers. “It’s… well, it’s a keyring they give you in a place I went once.”
I looked at it more closely and realized it looked familiar. Very familiar.
“So, do you like Christmas?” I asked instead.
“Yeah, it’s nice,“ he muttered, still looking out the window.
When we arrived at the address he had given me, I got out and walked with him to the front door. He knocked once, then again. Silence.
“Maybe they went to my grandparents’ house,” he said, although he didn’t seem convinced.
I looked back towards the square, whose lights twinkled in the distance. “Okay, Ben,” I said, kneeling down to his height. “Maybe we should give them some time. How about we go back to the square and enjoy some things while we wait? Have you ever skated?”
He looked at me and his eyes lit up. ”I’ve never skated before. Can we?”
I got up, smiling. “Sure, why not?”
When we returned to the square, Ben’s face lit up with excitement. The whole place was resplendent, with lights on all the trees and children running around. It had been a while since I had done much for the holidays, but tonight seemed different.
“So, shall we skate first?” I asked, nodding towards the rink.
Ben’s eyes widened. “Really? Can I?”
“Of course. Let’s go get some skates.”
Minutes later, we were on the ice. Ben took off, trembling at first, waving his little arms. I was no expert, but I managed to stay upright. We slipped, we stumbled, and we laughed. I felt lighter than I had in years.
“Look, Dennis! I did it!“ he shouted, sliding a little more firmly, with a smile on his face.
“You’re a pro now,” I laughed, half-jokingly. “I’m going to need you to give me lessons!”
After skating, we tried one of the fairground games: throwing rings at bottles. He didn’t win, but he almost knocked over the whole stall because he was so excited.
“Can we have hot chocolate?“ he asked, looking at the nearby stall.
“Of course,” I said. We took our steaming cups and found a bench to sit on and watch the crowd. As he sipped, Ben looked very happy. His cheeks were flushed and there was a peace about his expression that seemed like a gift.
I looked at him and felt a warmth in my chest that I hadn’t felt in years. I had only known the boy for a few hours, but I felt connected to him. And I didn’t want the night to end.
But in the end I cleared my throat. “Ben, maybe… maybe it’s time to go back to the shelter.”
He looked up, surprised, and for a moment his face fell. “How did you know?”
I smiled gently, pointing to his keyring. ‘I recognized that keyring as soon as I saw it. They were all the same when I was there.”
His eyes widened. ’You… you were at the shelter?”
I nodded. “A long time ago. I was about your age. So I understand. I understand what it feels like to want a family, even if it’s just for one night.”
Ben’s eyes dropped to the floor and he nodded slowly. ”I just… I wanted to feel like I had a family, you know? Just for Christmas.”
“Yes,” I said softly. ‘I know. And I’m so glad I got to spend Christmas Eve with you, Ben.”
He looked up and I saw the gratitude in his eyes. ’Me too, Dennis.”
We returned to the shelter in silence, the warmth of the night settling between us. When we arrived, a familiar face was waiting for us outside. It was the woman, the young woman who had bumped into me earlier. Her eyes lit up with relief when she saw us.
“There you are!” she exclaimed, running over to Ben and giving him a big hug. ”We were so worried about you. We should let the police know that you’re back.”
Ben squeezed her hand and whispered, “I was OK. Dennis helped me.”
The woman looked up at me, and her expression softened. ‘Thank you so much for bringing him back.’ She let out a sigh and added with a tired smile, ”I’m Sarah. I volunteer here. We’ve been looking for him since this afternoon.”
“Nice to meet you, Sarah,” I said, realizing that this must be more than just a chance encounter. We stood there for a moment, caught in a shared silent relief. She looked exhausted, her face a mixture of concern and something else, perhaps pain.
I hesitated and asked, ”Tough night?”
She nodded, looking away. “I found out that my boyfriend… well, he was cheating on me. Just tonight.” She laughed sadly, brushing away a tear. “But I guess that’s just the way it is.”
On impulse, I blurted out, ‘Well… would you like to have a coffee?”
She looked at Ben and then back at me. ’Actually… I’d love to.”
Over the following months, I often went to the shelter. Sarah and I would meet there, talk for hours and help each other.
The more time we spent, the closer we became, both to each other and to Ben. It seemed to shine whenever we were all together, and soon the shelter felt like the home I hadn’t realized I was missing.
When the following Christmas arrived, everything had changed. Sarah and I were married and Ben had officially become our son. That Christmas Eve we returned to the square, the three of us hand in hand, surrounded by laughter and lights.
We watched the skaters, sipped hot chocolate and felt at peace as our little family, a miracle in the making.