I wake up at 7 o’clock to go to school. I put on a green shirt and navy blue jeans. I hurry down the stairs because I can smell the eggs and toast dad is cooking. It’s my favourite breakfast.

“Make sure you mail your letter to Santa by tomorrow,” Dad reminds me as I bite into a steaming slice of toast, “or else Santa will not get your present in time!”

Christmas is only three days away, but I do not know what I want for Christmas just yet.

I put on my warm, blue mittens and Momma wraps a big wool scarf around my neck.

It is very itchy. “But it will keep you nice and warm,” Momma tells me. “Today will be very windy.”

As I walk out I grab my favourite Toronto Blue Jays baseball cap.

“That won’t keep you warm,” Momma tells me.

I don’t care because it is my favourite hat.

Every morning Momma walks me down the street to school. She stops at Carlo’s Bakery around the corner to buy her coffee.

As we step out of the bakery, a large gust of wind comes by and blows my Blue Jay’s cap off my head. Momma and I chase it down the sidewalk until a boy leans down and picks it up.

“Hello, my name is David,” the boy says with a big grin. David is shorter than me with dark brown hair and big brown eyes. He isn’t bundled up like me for such a cold day.

“My name is Billy,” I say. “Do you like the Blue Jay’s too?”

“Of course!” he says. “They are my Grandpa’s favourite!"

“Do you have a Blue Jays hat like mine?”

David’s smile fades. “No, but maybe one day I will save up enough money to buy one. We don’t have enough right now.”

I wonder why he seemed so sad. He turns away, but instead of walking down the street, he sits down beside an older man by the grey stonewall of the bakery. The man looks tired and holds a large paper cup in his hand. Instead of the cup being fill with coffee like Momma’s, there are coins inside.

“Are you David’s Grandpa?” Momma asks.

The old man smiles, “Yes, I am.”

“Well, it is lovely to meet you!” she says. She reaches into her purse to grab a few coins. They jingle as she drops them into his cup. 

“Thank you!” He says to her.

We walk away. “Why are they sitting by the wall?” I ask Momma.

“They probably need some help right now.” She says, “Not everyone has enough money to live in a house. Everyone needs a bit of help sometimes.”

On my way home from school, I see David and his Grandpa in front of the bakery again. “I thought of a great idea David! You should send a letter to Santa and ask for a Blue Jay’s hat!”

“I don’t write letters to Santa,” David says. "Santa flies through the sky on his big red sleigh with thirteen reindeer. They land on every roof. Then, Santa slides down the chimney and puts presents under the Christmas tree.”

David looks away. “I do not have a Christmas tree. I do not have a chimney for Santa to slide down or a roof for his reindeer to land on,” he says quietly.

  “Everyone should get a present from Santa!” I say, “I think if you told Santa where you will be he will bring you one, even if you are not in a house.”

“I do not know where I will be on Christmas Eve. Every night Grandpa and I have to find a new safe building to go to. There are many all over the city, but they are very far away so we have to walk a lot to find a place that has room for us.” David looks over at his Grandpa. “It is hard to find a place that will let me and Grandpa in together. Sometimes they don’t have enough room even though I am very small.”

“You should save up your money so you can buy a house,” I suggest.

“Grandpa and I are saving up every penny we make! It is not easy finding a house in city. They are very expensive.” David turns away. “There is no point in writing to Santa. I am too small. He won’t see me way up in the sky.”

He walks over to snuggle under her Grandpa’s arm.

Maybe David needs a warm pair of mittens, I wonder to myself. He wouldn’t be so cold if he had blue ones like mine.

“Do you think we should bring David a pair of mittens too?” I ask Momma that night.

“That’s a great idea!” she says.

Momma takes me down the dark wooden basement stairs. They creek with every step I take. 

We find an old dusty box filled with all the hats and mitts that don’t fit me anymore.

“Just because you don’t fit into them anymore doesn’t mean we have to throw them away. They still have lots of wear in them!” Momma says as she inspects them. She walks over to the cabinet and pulls open the drawers. “Look at all these extra fabrics we have!”

I walk up the stairs with a big box of fabric. Tablecloths, curtains, and bed sheets, all pilled up in my hands. Dad and I cut squares out of fabric with blue polka dots, red stripes, green zigzags, yellow flowers, and purple stars. Momma sits down at her sewing machine and pulls a long white spool of thread through the fine needle. She stitches the pieces all together with her white thread to make warm, snuggly quilts, created from every colour and pattern. 

The kitchen window is beginning to fog and the first snowflakes of winter flutter down from the sky. I think of David and hope he doesn’t feel the cold.

The next day I run over to Momma, “I finished my letter to Santa!”  

She smiles as she reads it carefully, “This is a wonderful idea Billy!”