Several weekends ago, I spent a Sunday evening with my mother doing some routine grocery shopping. It was a typical early December picture: patrons milling about in scarves and knee length coats to guard them from the chill in the Long Island air, shopping for holiday foods and perhaps gifts, all the time keeping in the spirit of the season with a kind smile and the permission of a passing shopping cart ahead of them.

Mom and I picked up all of the necessities that we came in for and were just about to head for the exit when I spotted their Christmas tree. Positioned about 100 feet from the door in a highly trafficked area, it was not decorated with bulbs and lights and garland and tinsel, as one would normally expect. Instead, it was adorned with tags shaped like angels. On each angel was the name of a child and his/her clothing size and a specific toy that he/she wanted for Christmas. What I was standing in front of was the Salvation Army’s Angel Giving Tree.

I had forgotten about the program. Every year, the Salvation Army sponsors this program for underprivileged children whose parents or caregivers cannot provide gifts for them at Christmastime. Donors are then allowed to “adopt” a child for whom to provide a nice Christmas morning. I usually do it every year and had forgotten this year until I saw the tree.

Overcome with excitement, I stood in front of the tree in anticipation of which child I would pick. It is very difficult to only choose one child, let alone making the decision of which one you are going to adopt. All the time, you have the knowledge hanging over your head that the other children whom you are not choosing may not have anyone else who chooses them either. It is a tug-of-war between the mind and the heart…knowing that you are doing something incredible for one child yet you cannot help all of them.

Standing there, I looked all over the tree but did not immediately grab a tag. Then, as if I was led to it by some knowledge outside of myself, I looked to the ground and saw a lone tag lying there.

Now, let me brief you on something. I am the world’s BIGGEST bleeding heart. I am the person in the pumpkin patch who picks the grossest, most dilapidated looking pumpkin in the whole lot only because I know that nobody else will take it and I feel bad for it. A pumpkin.

So looking at this tag on the ground, I had the same feeling: that it would get swept up and thrown out, or stuck to someone’s cart or shoe. I knew I had to take this child. I picked the tag up off the ground and read it. It was a 2-year-old girl named Rita. I could feel my heart beating love, as I knew how much I wanted to help her.

The toy that she asked for was something from the Leapfrog brand, a popular educational genre of toys. I looked to my mother and asked her “Mom, how much do Leapfrogs cost?” to which she responded “Jeez Cara. They’re expensive. I think they are like $100.”

I was crestfallen. I knew I could not afford a $100 toy for this baby. I put her tag back on the tree and chose another one – a 4-year-old girl named Dorothy. Even though I knew I was going to make a good Christmas for another child, I was devastated over little Rita. I began sobbing in the store in front of the tree. I couldn’t help it. My heart was hurting over this poor baby – and all the others in the whole world – who are going to wake up on Christmas morning and find that Santa didn’t come. And even worse, think that they were bad and that is the reason for it…

I did a bit of shopping for Dorothy that night and I felt a little better but I still could not get Rita out of my head. I cried all the way home from my parents’ house to my apartment. I cried myself to sleep that night. All I could think of was lovely Rita and her Leapfrog toy that she wanted Santa to bring her. I cried the whole way to work the next morning, too. I was so severely affected by this one child that I could think of nothing else but for a way to make her happy on Christmas morning.

I rushed into work that Monday with my sunglasses on to cover the fact that I had been crying so hard. The very first thing I did was to Google Leapfrog toys. I discovered that they are priced between $15 and $70 dollars. My heart LEAPT with excitement!

I called my mother immediately, not caring that it was only 7:30 in the morning. I instructed her to go back to the store and get Rita’s tag. I wanted this child; something had led me to her. Something had made me see that one tag lying there on the floor, almost forgotten and now I was confident that I was meant to do this for her.

Five hours later I received a call from mom that my grandmother had gone to the store. Rita’s tag was still there on the Angel Tree and she had gotten it for me. I cried again but this time with happiness instead of sorrow.

That week I went to Toys R’ Us and purchased the gifts that both Dorothy and Rita wanted. They also got clothes (cool clothes if I may say so, they are lucky I picked them…). Their gifts are now wrapped and waiting at the Salvation Army for them to open on Christmas morning. I don’t even need to see their faces; I just have happiness in knowing that these angels are getting what they asked for. And really, isn’t that what Christmas is all about?