Here it is Christmas time again. I am reposting this tale of a less privileged boy and his struggling Mother once more. I hope to inspire readers to find a Joey of their own. There can be no better gift than knowing that a child is able to enjoy that magical moment of Christmas morning! Please make a difference for a child this year!
Joey had grown to despise Christmas.
It was Christmas Eve, and he sat on the edge of the stained brown sofa that served as his bed in the tattered little camper that he and his Mom called home. The camper , forlorn and drafty, sat tucked into the edge of the forest on a farm, far out in the country. The farmer, now in his seventies, allowed Joey and his Mom to keep the rusted camper parked there at no charge. They had been living there since Joey’s dad…
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