Little eight year old Blaine waited impatiently in the store with his father. He was fidgeting, finding the tedious task of Christmas shopping for his mother boring and tiresome.

“Dad,” Blaine dragged out the vowel. “Can we go yet? I wanna go home,” he pouted.

“Blaine! Please, I’m trying to pick out jewelry to get your mother,” his father said sternly. “Now, let me see those earrings please,” he said, turning to the salesclerk behind the counter.

Blaine made a face and was about to throw a tantrum when he heard the bell on the door jingle. He turned his head to see a boy walk in. He had fair skin, with his cheeks and nose red from the cold. His eyes were a bright, sparkling blue. He was bundled up in a beanie, striped scarf, and an oversized, ragged, black peat coat. His gloves were fingerless, and his pants had holes in them. His shoes were tattered and ripped, with his socks peeking from behind the soles. He looked fragile and sad, like he was about to break any second. He nervously looked around the store and started walking towards the back.

Blaine’s eyes followed the boy until he couldn’t see him anymore. That’s when Blaine started to follow him. The boy stopped by the ladies shoes and carefully scrutinized each one, as if trying to find out which one was the most beautiful one. For a second Blaine wondered if these shoes were for him.

“What are you doing?” Blaine blurted out. Perhaps this boy could fix his boredom.

The small boy jumped. “Huh? O-oh, j-just looking for shoes …”

“For?”

“My momma.”

“Why?”

“Why are you so nosy!?” the boy snapped.

Blaine went wide eyed and stared. No one at school ever talked to him like that. He was speechless for a bit.

“I – I’m – But – I’m just bored!” Blaine sputtered back.

“Hrm,” the boy turned his head away from Blaine.

Blaine made a face and walked closer to the boy, poking him. “I’m Blaine.”

The boy rubbed his arm where Blaine poked him. “Kurt.”

“Can I help you pick out shoes for your mom?” Blaine asked.

Kurt gave him a look but eventually sighed and nodded. “She’s a size six.”

For the next fifteen minutes, the boys searched for shoes. According to Kurt, Blaine had zero fashion sense. He kept picking out sneakers or boots and Kurt would just state that they weren’t pretty enough, but thanks for trying anyway.

“What kind of shoes she wants?” Blaine asked as another pair of shoes he picked out was rejected.

“…Pretty ones …”

“For? Anything in particular?”

Kurt shuffled his feet. “I want her to look beautiful, if momma meets Jesus tonight.”

Blaine was speechless yet again by this boy. “W – what?”

Kurt looked down and frowned. “My momma is very sick. And I hear my daddy saying that there might not be much time left.”

“I – I’m sorry.”

“We don’t have a lot of money, so most years, Christmas is usually small. And with her being sick, it’s been even smaller. But it’s okay. She still makes it Christmas,” Kurt spoke.

Blaine blinked. He didn’t understand. Christmas was always big. He couldn’t remember a Christmas he didn’t spend opening up piles of presents, eating a big dinner, and watching Christmas movies.

“Is it really that bad?” Blaine asked. “Christmas I mean.”

“No, it’s not bad at all. Except,” Kurt’s lower lip quivered. “Except that my momma’s sick.”

“O – oh I’m sorry…” Blaine frowned. Then he went over and pulled his arms around Kurt.

“B – Blaine!? What are you doing?” Kurt asked.

“I’m sorry, and you needed a hug. That’s what my parents do when I’m sad.” Blaine hugged him tighter.

Kurt still had a confused look on his face, but a smile slowly started to spread. “Thank you Blaine – Oh!”

“Oh?”

“Those shoes!” Kurt freed an arm and pointed to the shoes on the top shelf. They were a lovely pair of deep red heels. They were beautiful and practical.

“Lemme get them!” Blaine said, reaching, but he was too short. Kurt chuckled and grabbed the shoes.

“Thank you Blaine – “

“Blaine! There you are! Come, tell me what you think of these for mommy!” Blaine’s dad scooted over to him, clasping his hand and pulling him to the counter. Kurt followed them as Blaine’s father showed off the earrings and necklace set.

“They’re pretty,” Blaine said, watching Kurt place the shoes on the counter.

“That will be a hundred eighty-four dollars and fifty-six cent,” the cashier told Kurt.

Kurt frowned and pulled out a bunch of crumpled bills on the counter, along with numerous of coins. They both counted the money for what seemed like an eternity.

“I’m sorry son, but you’re still about ninety-six dollars short,” the cashier said.

“What! No! I’m sure there’s enough!” Kurt began to count the money quickly, his frown growing as he realized the cashier was right.

Blaine felt his eyes sting at the sight. “Daddy?” he tugged on his father’s sleeve.

“Huh? What Blainers?” his dad said, still looking at the jewelry.

“I want to buy those shoes.”

“Huh? Oh! For mommy?”

“No. For Kurt.”

“Who?”

“My friend,” Blaine simply replied, pointing to Kurt. “His momma’s sick, and she needs those shoes tonight! She needs them so she can look pretty for Jesus!” he insisted to his father.

Blaine’s father blinked as he watched Kurt yet again count the money. “Look pretty for Jesus?” he swallowed hard.

“He’s momma’s very sick! And they aren’t going to have a big Christmas. I mean, Kurt’s not gonna get a lot of gifts except he’s okay with that cause his momma still makes Christmas wonderful! At least that’s what he says but I believe him!” Blaine looked at his father with big, puppy eyes.

Blaine’s father looked back and forth between the boys. “…Alright. Alright. I’ll pay for them,” he said softly, motioning the cashier over. “Sir? I would like to buy these shoes.”

“And the necklace and earring set?”

“And those two,” Blaine’s father said, pulling out a shiny credit card. The cashier scanned the items and swiped the cards. “Thank you for shopping with us today, sir.”

Blaine grinned and grabbed the shoes, rushing over to Kurt. “Look Kurt! Now your momma can look beautiful!”

Kurt looked at Blaine, smiling softly as his eyes watered. “Th – thank you Blaine!” He hugged him.

“You’re welcome Kurt!” Blaine smiled, hugging him back.

“I – I better get back home! Merry Christmas Blaine!”

“Merry Christmas Kurt!” Blaine called as Kurt rushed to the door.

Kurt only paused to smile at the shoes again, whispering softly. “Momma’s gonna look so great.”