The Letter That Got Left Behind

The wind blew—*whoosh*—and the little letter tumbled end-over-end, stopping against a boot. The boot belonged to a boy named Finn. Finn was eight years old. He was the kind of boy who always checked under bushes for lost kittens and rescued spiders from the bathtub. He picked up the letter. The stamp was missing. The ink was smudged. 'Oh no,' Finn whispered. 'You missed the sleigh.'

He looked at the sky. It was growing dark. The first stars were blinking awake. But Finn knew that a letter to Santa wasn't just paper. It was a hope. And you can't leave a hope in a puddle. 'I’ll help you,' Finn told the letter. He tucked it inside his wool coat, right next to his heart to keep it warm. He started to walk. He didn't know the way to the North Pole, but he knew he had to go North.

He walked to the edge of the Woods. The trees were tall and dark. Suddenly, two glowing yellow eyes appeared. A large shape stepped forward. It was a Wolf. 'Where are you going, little two-legs?' asked the Wolf. 'The night is cold.' 'I have a letter,' Finn said, his voice shaking. 'It got left behind. I have to get it to Santa.' The Wolf sighed. 'I used to chase the mail sleds,' he said. 'Now I am on the Naughty List. Santa will never come for me.'

Finn looked at the Wolf. He saw a lonely creature who just wanted to play. 'You can come with me,' Finn said gently. 'Maybe if you help, Santa will see you are good.' So they walked together. They climbed higher and higher, until they reached the Windy Ridge. A shadow swooped down. It was a Hawk, with feathers like ice. 'Go back!' shrieked the Hawk. 'The North is mine!' But Finn shared his dried cranberries with the hungry bird, and the Hawk became their friend.

'I can see far,' said the Hawk. 'I can see the lights of his village. But it is across the Great Dark Lake. You cannot walk there.' Finn looked down. He touched the letter again. It felt colder now. 'We have to try,' Finn said. 'I can help,' said the Hawk. 'I cannot carry you. But I can carry the hope.' Finn understood. The letter had to go the rest of the way alone.

He took the envelope out. He kissed the wobbly blue writing. 'Goodbye,' he whispered. 'Be safe.' With a powerful *flap, flap, flap*, the Hawk soared up, carrying the letter toward the Northern Lights. Finn and the Wolf watched him fly, a small dark speck against the moon.

They waited. Then—bells. Not from the sky, but from the wind itself. A golden dust seemed to settle over the ridge. Far away, a red light zoomed into the sky. It circled once, dipped its wings to say 'Thank You,' and vanished into the stars. Finn smiled. 'He got it.' 'We did good,' said the Wolf, his tail wagging. They walked back down the mountain together. The letter was delivered. But Finn found something better. He found that even when you feel small, you are big enough to help someone else.