After that night, Rose's radiant smile vanished for a while. Carrie remembered being aware of her mother's darker mood—not in any specific way; she just had a general feeling that her mother was going through a bad time. But Rose's mood lifted as Christmas approached. She was full of plans for the shelter. She and Carrie would spend all of Christmas Day there, and in the morning they'd play Santa Claus. Rose bought warm coats, gloves, sneakers, underwear, and jeans for the residents—she was now calling them “our family.” She bought necessities like soap and toothpaste, and little luxuries like Jean Naté toilet water, pretty scarves, and sparkly barrettes. She wanted Carrie to participate in the gift giving too. They had a serious talk, and Rose pointed out that there really wasn't room in their new apartment for all the toys Carrie had brought from her nursery suite on Park Avenue; in fact, there were cartons they hadn't unpacked that were full of toys in their original boxes because Carrie had never played with them. So didn't Carrie think it would be in keeping with the spirit of the season to donate those unused items to kids who had so little? Even though they could have bought presents, that wasn't the point. Giving was what the season was all about, and Rose just knew when Carrie saw the joy on those children's faces she would so happy. Carrie was four years old—she'd had her birthday that summer—and a lot of things adults said slipped by her. But one thing was clear to her: whatever they were talking about was making her mother happy. So she agreed. With Rose's enthusiastic approval, she chose a few well-loved toys to keep and sat down with her mother to wrap up the rest of her hoard in red paper with reindeer on it.

From the get-go, Carrie could remember being a little uneasy as her possessions disappeared into the mound of brightly colored packages. But her mother was smiling, and Carrie didn't want to make the unhappiness come back. Besides, she never thought she'd be giving away her toys forever. In her mind, the whole exercise was a kind of game in which her stuffed animals and dolls would be wrapped, opened, and then returned to her, the rightful owner.

Carrie enjoyed wearing her Santa hat at the shelter when she and her mother handed out their presents in the dayroom. She got caught up in the happiness of the kids, who were tearing off the wrapping paper and screaming with delight. Then, after all the presents had been opened, she sat and waited for her property to be handed back to her. When it didn't happen, she was a little perplexed but not really worried. As soon as the adults had retired to the kitchen to put the final touches on the holiday dinner, she began going around the dayroom collecting her belongings.