While out running errands last Friday, I stopped by La Montanita Co-op (913 W Alameda St., 984-2852) for expensive chocolate and organic milk. You know, the usual "money's tight " shopping list. While checking out, I saw behind the registers a sight that's a little too common around the holidays: a tree covered in paper ornaments, each with a child's name and Christmas wish.
The kids' names come from the state's Children, Youth and Families Department, and most belong to kids who are in state custody (as in, foster care). They have been removed from their parents' homes due to abuse and neglect. Some are also kids in "high-risk families" who are on the edge of entering the system. Social workers assigned to the kids' cases conduct regular home visits, and on one of those visits, the social worker will sit down with the child and ask what they'd like.
CYFD has been running the program for "six to eight years," according to Matt Esquibel, the county office manager at CYFD, leader of the toy drive that whole time. This year has seen the most ornaments ever.
Shopping bags in hand, I stopped by the tree to take a look. I fancy myself pretty buoyant, generally unflappable (in public at least), pan-optimistic. But the names and wishes on the ornaments, not to mention the number of ornaments, left me breathless.
Esquibel says that this year there has been a dramatic increase in the number of kids needing help. Last year, he says, there were about 30 kids needing gifts. This year, the number shot to 70. "More kids are coming into custody, statewide," he says. "We're seeing a lot of abuse and neglect."
Gifts are needed for everyone from 6-month-old babies to 17-year-old boys. A 12-year-old girl would like earbuds. A 15-year-old boy would like Denver Broncos swag or a pair of K-Swiss sneakers. Babies without Christmas gifts are sad, of course, but what really tugged at me were the pre-teens and teenagers. It wasn't that long ago that I was in high school, trying desperately to be cool, never quite making it—and I had the benefit of a great family and a solid financial footing. How hard must it be for those without the leg up?
After sifting through the branches, I finally chose an ornament for an 18-month-old boy named Diego. He wanted clothes (well, at least someone wanted clothes for him), cars and trucks, or an Elmo doll.
I left La Montanita in the dark and headed to Target. A couple shirts, a pair of pants and a pair of toddler sneakers found their way into my basket. But that would be lame, to just give practical gifts, right? I thought of Diego getting his gift of clothes and having nothing to play with. Nope. To the toy aisle. I found bulbous little cars made for tiny hands, outfitted with flashing lights and happy songs.
Parents with means would sweep a whole shelf of toys into the cart for their kid. I thought of my own closets at home, stuffed full of clothes that I hardly wear. I thought of all the ornaments I didn't take. One kid wanted a Frozen doll, another wanted a Doc McStuffins something-or-other. Should I go back and get more? I can't. My wallet can't. But I felt like I should. I wished everyone would. I was tearing up in the Target toy aisle. Time to go.
The toys need to be back at La Montanita by Dec. 12, and the CYFD holiday party happens this year on Dec. 16. The gifts are distributed at the party. (Gifts that come in after the deadline, or after the party, will be delivered to the kids at home by their social worker.)
I asked Esquibel what happens if not all the ornaments are taken. He said that CYFD makes sure every kid gets at least two gifts, and that other agencies —the Santa Fe Police Department, for example, and some fire departments—also contribute toys and gifts for kids whose ornaments stayed behind.
We all like to think, if we were in these kids' shoes, we'd appreciate anything we were to get. But let's be real. The fire department is unlikely to have a brand-new pair of K-Swiss sneakers in that one teenage boy's size. If no one picks his ornament, he won't get precisely what he wants. (Wants? Well, I guess, technically, they "want" their gifts. But could there be a threshold we cross where even "wants" become "needs?")
I came home from Target and wrapped each item in gold tissue paper. I fought the urge to go back to La Montanita and get another ornament. I Instagrammed the bag, hoping my friends would go get ornaments of their own. And we'll all muddle through somehow, but hopefully one kid's Christmas will be a little more merry.
