Colin, a young boy with autism (自闭症), has a special love for card tricks. These aren’t just any tricks; they’re just his way of dealing with a world that can often be stressful. Cards, in Colin’s hands, become more than pieces of paper; they are instruments of focus and bridges to connect with others.

As the family checked into the hotel, little did they know that this would be the setting for a heartwarming story that would touch the hearts of many.

Colin, with a heart full of innocence and curiosity, approached the front desk. Standing behind that desk was Kahlief Hill, a 39-year-old hotel clerk, a kind and warm-hearted man. Colin looked up at him, his eyes bright with excitement, and asked a simple question: “Would you like to see a card trick?”

What Kahlief didn’t know at that moment was the great impact of his response. He didn’t know that Colin had autism, and for Colin, card tricks were more than a hobby. They were his shelter, a way to quiet his mind and keep his hands engaged. Colin had lost his father a few years before, leaving him with a gap where a male figure and role model should be.

His mother didn’t know that Colin had been waiting for a “big brother” for over two years, living with just his mom and sister. And Kahlief didn’t know that he was becoming that male figure Colin longed for.

Despite not knowing any of this, Kahlief’s   response was a simple and warm “yes”. He allowed Colin to take center stage, performing his card tricks with patience and enthusiasm. It wasn’t just about watching; Kahlief also shared some tricks of his own, bringing about a magical exchange of wonder and smiles.

This beautiful connection didn’t end that night. The following evening, when Colin and his family returned to the hotel after dinner, Kahlief was there, manning the front desk once more. And when he saw Colin walking to him, he extended the invitation once again: “Would you like to come and practice more card tricks?”

Without hesitation, Colin rushed to his room.

In the following days during their stay, Colin often went to play cards with Kahlief.

One day in December, Alvin, 66, was deep in the woods in Louisiana, when something caught his eye. As Alvin approached, he saw that the object was a broken balloon. Attached was a piece of paper decorated with sparkly star stickers. It was a child’s Christmas wish list.

“Dear Santa,” the handwritten note read. “My name is Luna. I am four years old. I live in Liberal, Kansas. This year I have been nice. I would like candy, Spider-Man ball, Frozen doll, puppy. With love, Luna.”

Alvin’s heart hammered in his chest. Ever since he was a child, he had dreamed of this very scene. “I’ve always wanted to find one.” He believed this was his childhood wish coming true. And he knew he was going to make Luna’s wish come true too.

Liberal, Kansas, is more than 650 miles from his hometown. But Alvin’s wife, Ann, was not discouraged by the distance. She posted a photo of the balloon and the Christmas list on his Facebook page, asking for help locating the sender. Just in a few hours, the number of people sharing her post creep into the hundreds, “My hope grew into expectations,” Alvin says. “I knew we were going to find Luna.”

Meanwhile, Gonzalez, the mother of four-year-old Luna, had no idea that such an effort was underway.

It had been a hard year for Luna and her family. As COVID-19 spread, they felt lonely, scared, and separated. Before December, Gonzalez had come up with the idea of having the girl send letters to Santa by balloon. She told her that Santa would grab the balloons while he flew through the air on his sled (雪橇).

She took Luna outside to release their wishes to the universe.“Bye. balloons!” Luna called, waving as the balloons floated away, sailing above the trees and into the sky.

The family was enjoying a modest Christmas together when they heard a knock at the door. Luna and her mother ran to the door together.

It was about ten years ago. It was a cold, wet and dark winter day. A fine rain was falling, which left my clothes wet through and froze my bones. I was walking over to visit my Dad. Although his house was only a short walk from mine, I was already wet and suffering. I knocked on his door and stepped in. A warm steam was floating from the kitchen. It touched my nose and suddenly I was eight years old again. Dad was making Grandma’s special sauce (酱料).

When I was growing up, every Sunday Grandma would make us an Italian feast. She would cook her spaghetti (意大利面) sauce for hours. Then she would drop in potatoes, chicken, meat balls, sausage and sometimes even steak (牛排). It always left our stomachs full, our hearts happy, and the house smelling sweet.

I sat down while Dad made me a plate. It felt so good having a meal like I used to when I was a boy. We talked about those old times and laughed over the memories both good and bad. And I noticed something to. I didn’t feel cold anymore. Oh, my clothes were still wet from the rain but my heart was warm, my spirit was light, and both my face and stomach were smiling.

Dad and Grandma have been gone for years now. I still miss them both every single day. And although my daughter and I both know how to make Grandma’s special sauce, we don’t cook it as often as we can. Maybe it is because no matter how hard I try, I can never get it 100% right. I think that maybe I am missing a material. Or maybe it was just the Love with which Grandma and Dad cooked it that made it so delicious.

I decided to make the food filled with love at last.

I want to give a taste of love to the seniors in the nursing home nearby.