When I was a kid I was so anxious for Christmas! I dreamed of all the toys I would get and for the weeks leading up to Christmas I laid in bed at night listening for Santa to be outside my window. Well, one night I heard voices coming from downstairs. I crept out of my bed and slowly down the steps until I could see the living room where my parents sat talking. My mom was crying, as she said there was very little food in the house. My dad was sad and angry, telling her that they had no money to pay the bills. They didn't know what they were going to do, or how we would have a Christmas.
I might have only been 8 years old, but I knew just what I had to do! I sneaked back to my room and grabbed my piggy bank off the shelf. I had been saving all my change for years and had what I considered a great amount of money in it. I took all the money out and put it in a sack, then crept back down the stair. I could still hear my parents talking and it broke my heart, but as I said, I knew what I had to do with my savings. I grabbed a flashlight, went outside, and buried it so they couldn't get their mitts on it.
