Christmas is a great time of happy and togetherness, but it’s easy to forget that many people face difficulties during the season and may not feel its warmth.
Therefore, the fascination of the holidays has a way of appearing unexpectedly, passing difficult moments into bright, uplifting ones, and reminding us that joy is always within reach.
When I was 8, my class had a Christmas gift exchange.
My family was so poor we couldn’t afford a gift, so I wrapped one of my dad’s old books in reused gift paper and gave it to my classmate.
She, in return, had given me the latest Barbie.
When she saw my gift, she started crying.
The next day, her mom came to school, looking serious and asking for me.
Suddenly, she started smiling when she saw me and her expression softened.
She handed me a bag filled with gifts—the Barbie’s matching car, a Ken doll, and brand-new holiday clothes.
I was overwhelmed.
It didn’t end there.
I froze in shock when she told me to wait after school because she was taking me and her daughter to lunch—I couldn’t believe it.
It was my first time ever in a restaurant.
Her daughter, who had been upset before, was now kind to me, and we became close friends.
We’re still friends today, even at 24, despite living in different towns.
That mother’s kindness was the first time I truly felt the magic of Christmas.
I’ve never forgotten it.
Now that my family is financially stable, I pay it forward every year by helping a child in need during the holidays
After a lifetime of messing up, my family disowned me, and I’ve been homeless and destitute.
I found a medication regimen that actually works for my mental illness.
Unfortunately, the rest of life hasn’t fallen into place, and I’m still homeless and unemployed.
My attempts to contact my family were limited or thwarted, as my phone was stolen, and my email containing all my phone numbers was linked to it, leaving me limited to writing letters.
I wrote roughly once a week, with no response.
For months.
It hurt.
I tried to keep my head up, but it got harder as time went on.
Eventually, I got back on Facebook, and found my mom’s account.
I messaged her this morning, saying Merry Christmas, that I miss her, and that I’m sorry for everything.
I expected radio silence once more.
BUT SHE MESSAGED ME BACK!
I GOT TO TALK TO MY FAMILY FOR THE FIRST TIME IN SIX MONTHS TODAY!
It’s mixed news since my dad is in the hospital and almost died, but it’s way better than not knowing.
And then after they passed the phone around, my mom got back on and told me I got a check in the mail.
A legit check—she had to check it out herself—for 8 grand.
Here I am, in a homeless shelter, lost, destitute, and unsure of what to do next, when everything I needed and wanted fell into my lap on Christmas. © reyemanivad / Reddit
I was attending an adult program and later became employed by them.
During one small Christmas party in one of the classes, we had a gift exchange.
We all drew a name out of the hat, so everyone had their gifts.
But sitting on the table was another gift that had no name or tag.
It was like a small gift basket, and none of us had bought or brought it, and it didn’t particularly belong to anyone.
It’s like someone snuck in the door and put it there, but that wasn’t possible.
I still think of that, and even at my age, I still believe in Santa.
You can laugh at me if you like. © Sandy Lewis / Quora
An angel appeared just as I realized I had failed to buy four tickets for myself and my friends to an outdoor Christmas musical theater show.
She asked us to join her, as her family could not go.
Like in a Christmas movie, she wouldn’t accept a cent for the opportunity of joining her.
So we graciously fell into her cheer and sang, laughed, and danced in her seats, inspiring many other parents around us to release their embarrassment and spread their Christmas cheer.
The children were ecstatic, and their smiles brought out even more joy among us all.
It was the kindest moment that truly had grown adults enjoying their true essence once again—knowing there was something magical about Christmas in the air. © Amie Sapiecha / Quora
In 2013, my brother’s family were coming over for Christmas from where they lived in Australia, used to 40°C temperatures, sunshine, and hot weather.
Some were excited about the idea of coming to Southern England, but my brother wa:rned that it would not be the winter wonderland they expected—it would probably just be gray, damp, and a bit meh.
They landed at Heathrow early in the morning, with it still dark outside, and went upstairs for a short nap as more than 24 hours of travelling had worn them out.
As they slept, the skies opened, and they woke up to find a blanket of white. © Nigel H.
/ Quora
When I was in the 8th grade, we were having hard times, and we knew it would be a lean Christmas.
Our cousins had gotten new 10-speed bikes in October, and we had envied them from the start.
We always went to our grandparents’ house for Christmas Eve.
There were quite a few people at the house that year, but it wasn’t as crowded as it could’ve been.
When all the gifts had been opened, Mother had my sister and me pick up the wrapping paper and throw it away.
When we stepped out onto the porch, there were two bikes.
I looked back at Daddy, and he was just smiling big.
It dawned on me that the bikes were ours.
We dropped the trash and got on the bikes.
I have no idea how they pulled that off, but considering our finances, it was a Christmas miracle. © Crysti Drake / Quora
