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“Well, look at you,” Kian said, holding out his white-gloved fist for a bump. “I knew you were on the wrong list the second I saw it.”

“I was bad, though.” He fell silent for a few seconds. “All I wanted was for Mom to listen to me, but she got mad because she had to keep leaving work to talk to my teacher. Then she got sad when she found out about my blood cells. So now I think I shouldn’t have been bad.”

“It might feel that way, right?” Joy asked, and he nodded solemnly. “The same thing happened to me when I was a little older than you. I found out I’d need to wear leg braces and use crutches for the rest of my life.”

“Whoa,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Using crutches for a thousand years must be very tiring.”

“You get used to it,” Joy said, winking. “But here’s the thing: you knew something was wrong, yet no one was listening. All you could do was act differently until someone noticed, right?”

“I tried to tell them,” he grumbled.

Kian made a big show of digging in his nearly empty Santa sack and pulling out a scroll and a feathered pen. Unrolling the scroll, he scanned the names, as basic as they came, until he found a Michael. “Ah yes, here you are,” Kian said, showing the boy the list. He took the pen and swiped it across the scroll until his name disappeared. Really, the pen just had White Out in it, but Michael’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “No more naughty list for Michael Melland. I’m sure glad I stopped by your room today. I’d hate to leave coal in your stocking on Christmas Eve.”

“I’ll be stuck here, Santa,” Michael said, as if seeing his name disappear from the list were enough to make him believe. Leaning forward, he whispered, “Mom doesn’t have the money for Christmas, so I didn’t ask for anything anyway. It’s going to be worse now that I’m in here. She can’t work, and hospitals are expensive!”

Joy’s heart broke. She remembered living the kind of life Michael was living, dealing with the uncertainty and the pain of not being like her friends, while knowing her parent was doing the best they could. Then add in a chronic illness, and everything snowballed.

“Michael,” Joy said, knowing she had to do something to lift his spirits. “Did you know Christmas is the time of year when miracles happen? You know that boy who was so mean to me all those years ago?” she asked, and Michael nodded. “I married him,” she said, winking at Kian, who winked back.

“Now, let me tell you, that was a giant Christmas miracle!” Kian said, HO-HO-HOing softly. “I want you to do something for me, okay?” he asked, and Michael nodded again, his eyes wide as they darted between them. “It will be hard, but I know you can do it. I want you not to worry about all the big adult stuff Moms worry about, okay? All I want you to focus on is getting better so you can go back to school.”

“They’ll all be mad at me for being a jerk,” Michael pouted, huffing.

“Santa has already taken care of that,” Kian promised. “Mrs. Peters explained that you were sick, but no one knew it. Your friends are very concerned.”

“They are?” The hope in his voice broke Joy, and she wiped her eye. “It’s Christmas break, so I figured they didn’t know.”

“Oh, you know Snowcap Ridge. It doesn’t take long for everyone to know when someone needs their love and support. You can count on that being true because Santa doesn’t tell fibs, right?”

“Right,” Michael said. “Thanks for the talk, Santa. It will be hard not to worry because I love my mom. I don’t want to make her life any harder.”

“No, baby,” the woman said as she stood. Joy didn’t realize his mom was awake. “You don’t make my life harder. You make it sweeter. I don’t want you to worry about me. Remember what we talked about. We can be both brave and scared, both weak and strong. Right?”

“Is that true, Santa?” Michael asked.

Kian nodded obediently. “Your mom is very smart. You should listen to her when she says it will be okay.”

“I’ll try,” he said, but Joy was not convinced. Not that she could blame him. He had a lot to worry about in his young life.

“Santa, do you have anything in that bag for Michael? The last time I checked, there were still a few gifts.”

“Of course,” Santa said, ho-ho-hoing. “This is a magic bag. It never runs out of toys for good girls and boys!” He rummaged around in the bag, pulled out a box, and handed it to the boy. “I wonder what it is!”

Michael peeled back the wrapping and let out a whoop. “No way! Mom, it’s a Switch!” He pulled off the rest of the wrapping, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“And there are all kinds of games ready for you to play, as long as your mom says it’s okay,” Santa said, giving him a stern look.

Michael hugged it to his chest. “I’ll listen, I promise! Thank you, Santa! I’ve wanted one forever!”

Joy smiled. They always brought items the kids could play with in their beds, and seeing his reaction made it worth hunting everything down early in the year. They never knew how many kids would be on the unit, so they always planned for a full house, hoping they wouldn’t need them all. This year, only half the beds were full, which made Joy happy. Kids shouldn’t be sick and in the hospital over Christmas.

“Thank you, Santa,” his mom said, a tear sliding down her cheek. “That was just one of the wishes I couldn’t fulfill this year.”

Feeling awful for his mom, Joy squeezed her elbow and offered her an encouraging smile. “You’re here doing the hardest job of all, and that means more than any video game or dirt bike, right, Michael?”

“Right,” he whispered, still holding the box to his chest. “I get scared when she’s not here, so she doesn’t leave me, even when she’s tired. The nurses brought her a bed, which was very kind of them.”

“That was kind of them,” Joy agreed, standing. It was time to let the boy rest, since they had been there for at least thirty minutes. “Now that you’ve had a visit with Santa, I should get him home. Tomorrow is the big day, and he needs to rest.”