It was as if his bruised little heart put on a layer of steel. That emotional armor protected him from the cruelty of other kids, from loneliness, and from the feeling that nobody in the world had really chosen him. Still, even in that loud, crowded children’s home, there were traditions people held onto.
Every year before Christmas, all the kids wrote letters to Santa. The director collected them carefully and passed them along to local donors. People with money did what they could to grant at least some of the children’s wishes.
By chance, some of those sealed envelopes ended up each year with officers at a nearby Air National Guard unit. Most of the children asked for the kind of miracle no adult could really provide. They wanted a mom. A dad. A family.
And the adults who opened those letters often had a hard time figuring out what kind of gift could possibly comfort a child like that. This year, one of the letters landed in the hands of flight engineer Major Mike Chandler. He slipped the envelope into the pocket of his flight jacket and headed for his car.
He planned to read it that evening at home and talk it over with his wife and daughter so they could choose a good gift together. Later that night, over tea at the kitchen table, he remembered the letter in his jacket. He brought it in from the mudroom, opened it neatly with a butter knife, and read it out loud.
“Dear grown-ups, if you really can, please get me a real laptop for Christmas. Please don’t spend your money on stuffed animals or clothes, because we already have those here. But with the internet, I could try to find some real friends, and maybe even people who might turn out to be family.”
At the bottom of the lined notebook paper was a careful signature in blue ink: “Alex Iverson, age 11.” “Well,” his wife said softly, “that is one smart kid.”
She looked at her husband and said the boy was thinking more clearly than a lot of adults would. “He’s right,” she added. “With the internet, he might actually be able to find the people he’s looking for.” Their daughter Annie quietly picked up the letter and read it again to herself.
Mike, with the sharp eyes of a military pilot, noticed right away that her lips trembled a little. He set down his mug and looked at her. “What is it, honey?” he asked gently…
