A Christmas He’ll Never Forget

Our Foster Light Christmas Party wasn’t just a party—it was a glimpse of what happens when a whole community shows up for kids who’ve gone too long without magic. Volunteers poured in from every corner. M Photography turned a simple space into a winter wonderland, crafting a balloon arch, layering charcuterie trays with care, and decorating with beauty that felt like love you could see. Board members served our snacks with joyful smiles. Friends dressed up like Santa, Mrs. Claus, elves—even a walking Christmas tree. Preston Refrigeration made sure every child had three gifts to take home- along with toilet paper and paper towels for all of the families. It was loud and joyful and messy and holy. It looked like LIGHT.

A few weeks prior to the party, one foster mom had shared that her new 8 year old placement had been confused when they put up a Christmas tree—he’d never had one before. When she asked him about gifts, he paused. “We didn’t really do that at our house,” he said. But then he remembered—just once, a teacher gave him a present in a bag with white paper peeking out the top, “like in a movie.” It was a winter coat. That memory stuck with him, not because of the gift, but because someone had seen him. Someone had wrapped something just for him. At the party, when he walked slowly up to the mountain of presents near the christmas tree, he stared in disbelief. “Wait, these have my name. Are they mine?” he asked. “Are you sure?” He kept checking—if he could take them home, if he could keep them forever… He was shocked. Overjoyed.

He ran to get his sister, beaming, pointing like it was too good to be true. But it was true. And that moment—that wide-eyed wonder, that sacred feeling of being chosen, of being wanted—is why we do what we do. These weren’t just toys. They were hope, wrapped up in paper and ribbon. Proof that joy belongs to them, too. That their stories are not forgotten. And that, around here, love looks like action.