“I know. I used to have a dog named Blake. She died, and I thought I wanted to die, too. I miss her so much. I never believed I would ever be happy again. But then I saw this kid playing with a black Lab, and I started thinking it might be time to get another dog. See, there are other dogs that need me, other dogs that can be my dog. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever wished for.”

“It’s big,” André admitted. “Really big. What kind of dog?”

“Pretty much any kind, so long as it’s friendly and wants to play and likes to sleep with me at night. I don’t want to be too picky.”

Charlie’s heart sped up when he pictured himself with a dog. Playing and feeding, lying around, taking walks, games of fetch. With a dog of his own, he would never be lonely.

“I’ve been asking and asking,” he said. “My mom and stepdad said no after Blake died, on account of we’re moving overseas and we move a lot. And my dad said no because he’s always busy working and I’m not home enough. Yeah, right. I know deep down in my heart it would be awesome. It would be a dream come true.”

“That’s totally cool, Charlie. So you think Santa’ll actually bring you a dog?”

“If he’s real, he has to, right?”

“Yep.” They rolled snowball after snowball, and more walls went up. It was awesome, having a best friend, thought Charlie. You could talk, or just be quiet and work side by side. You could tell each other stuff. They finished the shelter, and it was like a dark cave inside, cold and small, a real fort to keep them safe in case of enemy attack.

“What about you?” Charlie asked. “What did you ask for?”

André’s smile sank into a line of seriousness. “Remember the promise.”

“I remember. I could never forget.”

“Good. Because the dog is the biggest thing you ever asked Santa for. My wish is the most serious thing I ever asked Santa for.”

Charlie tried to imagine what kind of serious thing André was talking about.

“You know how we had to come stay with your dad because my mom went away for work?”

“Yep. That’s tough. I miss my mom when I’m away from her.”

“Yeah, but you have your dad. It’s different. I don’t have my dad. And I wouldn’t want him. He’s mean and he does bad stuff. So it’s nice how your dad is letting us come here. But my wish is about my mom.”

“You can’t ask Santa to bring your mom for Christmas. It doesn’t work that way.”

“I know. That’s not what I asked.”

“Then what?”