There are games planned and singing, and some poor schmuck is dressing up as Santa Claus.
I’m whistling to myself as I butter toast, and when I reach for a new bag of bread, my eye catches Cleo’s. She gives me a smile that warms my chest and makes my heart feel like it’s floating.
She’s happy here, doing good and making a difference to people’s lives.
My girl’s an angel, and that makes me love her even more. Because yeah, I do love Cleo.
I’ve loved her sine the moment I saw her photo, and that love has grown stronger every day I’ve spent with her.
When this is over, I’m going to tell her how I feel and ask her to come back to the Coast with me. If she wants a family, I’ll give her one. There’ll always be a place for Cleo with me.
It’s a few hours later and my hands are sore from buttering toast. Not that I’d ever admit that to anyone.
“The first kids are here!”
A young woman runs in excitedly, wearing reindeer antlers and a red nose, and she’s got a string of tinsel stuck to her foot.
While we’ve been working in the kitchen, another group of volunteers has been decorating the hall.
I grab a tray of toast while Cleo takes a plate of bacon, and we head out into the hall.
A boy who looks to be about seven years old comes in the door. His eyes widen as he takes in the big Christmas tree in the corner and the lights that are strung round the room. In the center of the hall are tables where we lay down the plates of food.
The boy is joined by two girls who are slightly younger. One of them carries a raggedy soft toy in her hands, the gray bunny pulled tightly to her chest.
“Hey.” Cleo crouches next to the girl. “Do you want some Christmas breakfast?”
The girl eyes Cleo warily, and it breaks my heart to see such suspicion on the face of a young girl. I can’t comprehend what some of these kids have been through.
But Cleo can. She’s been through it too.
With compassion, she takes the girl by the hand and leads her over to the table. I don’t hear what Cleo says to her, but within a few minutes, the girl smiles at Cleo and a few moments later they’re laughing together.
I turn my attention away. I can’t do anything about the past and what these kids have been through, but I can make sure today is one experience they’ll remember for all the right reasons.
I find the little boy flicking ornaments on the Christmas tree and crouch next to him.
“Hey.”
He takes a cautious step back, which makes me glad I swapped my MC cut for a bright-green Christmas jumper with a snowman on it that I found in Ethan’s drawer.
“You want to play with the trains?”
The boy looks hesitant, and I point over to a corner where there are a bunch of toys, including a wooden train set.
The boy runs over, and I join him. Soon we’ve built a track and we’re racing each other around. He cracks up laughing every time we crash into each other.
It doesn’t take long for the place to fill up, and I’m called back to the kitchen.
There are organized games for the kids while we get lunch ready. It’s a proper Christmas roast with all the trimmings.
When we serve lunch, the volunteers join the kids at the table.
I reach across Cleo to pull my Christmas cracker with her. She’s got a green paper hat on that’s fallen lopsided, and my chest swells at the sight of her.
I catch her eye and she smiles. Then the little girl tugs on Cleo’s sleeve and takes her attention away.
As I take a bite of my Christmas dinner, I can’t help thinking this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.