"Sorry, but he's not what we're looking for." Little David knew this is what they had said, even without his usual eavesdropping. The couple who was looking to adopt him exited the Orphanage Office, looking almost as disappointed as he was.
"Sorry there Davvie, not today. Why don't you go to bed now? It's nap time." The frail old lady told the little boy, whose eyes were already red with tears and exhaustion.
"Y-Yes, Lady Fresca." The sad orphan sighed, walking back to his room and laying down on his bed. David Killigan was left on the steps of the orphanage when he was no older than one. It being five years later, he was still lonely whenever Christmas came around. Lady Fresca, who took care of all the children, didn't have enough money to get the children anything for Christmas. He had stopped believing in Santa Claus, if he ever had started. He never had gotten a birthday present, and even though he was one of the sweetest and smartest kids there, no one seemed to want him. Couple after couple came to see him, interested in adopting, but they all turned him down. He didn't know why. No one knew why. Their usual excuse was 'There's something strange about him, I think he'd scare out other children'. Sometimes 'children' would be substituted by 'pets' or 'friends'. He didn't think he looked creepy.
Just to make sure, he stepped in front of the mirror to examine himself. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Fluffy brown hair, soft green eyes, pale peach skin, a few light 'angel kisses' on his arms. He was a cute little kid; talented too. As a donation someone had donated instruments and lessons, he had chosen two; violin and piano. He was very talented, artistic, smart, cute; he didn't know why no one wanted him. He had found a stray cat, a little on the thin side, but he seemed just like him. The cat, whom he named Frisky, was a light orange shorthair tabby with white chest, paws, a little on his nose, and his muzzle. Light yellow rings along his tail, very faded. His green eyes perked up, as if he knew David was thinking of him.
"Frisk, one day we'll have a nice home. And we'll have Christmas." He sighed again as he glanced at his window, glazed with frost as snow continued to fall. It was December, days before Christmas. Laying down, cuddling up with his little teddy bear, Hamelton, he fell asleep.
Three days later, Christmas Eve, David awoke like it was any other day. Slipping out of bed, he looked outside. More snow, as was expected. He scurried downstairs for breakfast, and gasped. Everyone in the kitchen were dressed in their best clothes, cheap balloons and a large sign that read 'Congratulations, Davvie!'. Lady Fresca was there, too, smiling. "David, we have someone here to see you."
The Pervious Night
David sat on his bed, pressed his hands together, and began to pray. He never had before, he didn't really believe in God. But if he ever needed him, now was the time. "God, I-I want a family for Christmas. It's more than any fat man could give me. I don't know what's wrong with me, I don't care. I just want a family that will love me and Frisky as much as Lady Fresca does. Umm. . Amen." He sighed, "What a bunch of bologna, when I wake up tomorrow all there's going to be is a bunch of kids who are sad in old hand me down clothes." He gave a huff, before snuggling into his blankets to shield him from the cold.
Two people came out from behind the group of children. They looked very classy. The woman was a little pudgy, with long brown hair and soft blue eyes, dressed in a short sleeved shirt and a long skirt. The man was wearing a tucked in buttoned red shirt with black slacks, with fluffy, messy black hair, and nice green eyes. "David?" The woman asked, kneeling down.
"David, meet Sharice and Mark Killigan. Your parents. They contacted us last night, they're here to take you." Lady Fresca said with a smile.
David dropped Hamelton, "M-Mom? D-Dad?"
That night he was snuggled in a bed, his very own bed, in his very own bedroom. He had talked for hours with his parents about his life, and now he was nearly asleep in his bedroom on Christmas Eve, Frisky snuggled at his feet and Hamelton in his arms. Thanks, God. He thought this with all of his might as he fell asleep.
In the morning he skipped downstairs and froze. In the living room there was a tree glowing with lights and ornaments, presents filling under it. On the mantle of the fireplace held a stocking, lumpy with candy.
"Merry Christmas, David," His mother said from the rocking chair as his father came out with cinnamon buns.
Christmas dreams do come true.