"It's CHRISTMAS!! Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!!" Twinks squealed happily as she bounced across every bottom bunk in an attempt to shortcut it through the room to the door. Ignoring the yelps and groans of pain from her fellow newsgirls as she clambered across stomachs, legs, arms, and faces, the excited seven-year-old sprang out the door and down the hall to pound on the boys' bunkroom.

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! IT'S CHRISTMAS!! JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE, JINGLE BELLS!!" She screamed through the door before bursting into song again and darting down the stairs. The sounds of newsboys falling from their various height bunks in surprise, followed by sharp curses, drifted into the hall before their door burst open and the heavy thud of a dozen or so young pairs of feet went running for the stairs.

In both bunkrooms, the older newsies were less enthused at the prospect of a new day dawning. Some of the bunks were already empty from different ones waking early to make it down to the Distribution Center to sell the morning edition to the fathers and bachelors who might be out and about that beautiful Christmas morn. The sun poured down onto the streets outside the Lodging House, bouncing its joyous light off the newly fallen flakes and making the world seem as if it were covered in diamonds.

Taking their time in getting up and dressed, the newsies of both genders gasped and hissed at the chill of their ragged clothes. Some mumbled that it wasn't worth freezing over and that they should be woken up when spring arrived again, while others just simply continued to snore. Wish and Corky did their best to prod the little ones along, telling them that the sooner they got dressed the sooner they'd warm up again. Down the hall in the boys' bunkroom, Jack and Skittery merely smacked the lazy ones upside the head and pushed them out of their bunks and onto the cold floor in order to get them moving.

From downstairs, a loud squeal of delight erupted followed by Twinks shrill voice calling for everyone to, "COME QUICK! SATAN'S BEEN 'ERE! SATAN'S BEEN 'ERE!!" which, of course, caused those old enough to catch what Twinks had said to stop and tilt their heads in minor confusion.

"If Satan's been 'ere…I don't t'ink I wanna go downstairs. I don' care how good those baked apples an cinnamon smell, I t'ink I'll stay right 'ere an' let Twinks deal with the fire an' brimstone 'erself." Corky said raising an eyebrow to Wish as the pair moved for the door behind the younger ones who were suddenly awake and dressed.

"Leave it to Twinks to mess up a great name like, Santa," Wish muttered as she shook her head and met up with the others in the hallway to file down the stairs and into the lobby below.

"'Ey…how much ya t'ink it would cost ta have Twinks put down? Ya know, have 'er put out of our misery?" An older newsie questioned from the back of the horde, sending a wave of laughter and giggles through the stairway while a few others actually tried to figure the answer out for themselves. As the mass of bodies moved down the stairway, the front of the group stopped dead in their tracks at the bottom, causing the others to fall into them and some to slip down the stairs a little at the suddenness of the stop.

"What's the hold up!? What's the big idea, stoppin' like dat!? Don't push me! Ey! Get yer hand off my bum! Whoa! Dat is NOT the railin' you got yer hand on, goil!" A mingle of protests and yelps emerged from the tumbled mass as those on the bottom step slowly moved and looked around the lobby in awe.

It couldn't possibly be the same lobby from the night before; someone must have come in during the night and moved their dingy old lobby on them while they slept. Ropes of evergreens intertwined with strings of blood red cranberries and large red, purple, and gold bows wrapped down the length of the stairs railing and hung from the doorways. A grand Christmas tree, complete with all the trimmings and stacks of small gifts under it, sat in the corner of the common room where their pathetic excuse for a tree had been sitting the night before. Two large baskets filled with breads, treats, and cookies sat on the ledger counter top while red and white candy-canes poked out of the top of the stockings just waiting to be tasted.

The little newsies smiled brightly as they ran for their stockings and poured the contents out onto the floor in front of them. Candy-canes and Jacks, small rubber balls, marbles, and yo-yo's all rolled across the floor, causing the kids to yell in delight as they scurried to chase them all down. Tucked safely inside of each stocking was also a slip of paper. Jolt looked at his slip before holding it up to Skittery.

"Ey! What's all dese fancy words 'ere mean? I can't read any o' dis."

"Uh, well, it says: 'This certificate is worth twent…,'" Skittery's eyes went wide as he nearly choked on his own words and blinked some before continuing, "'This certificate is worth twenty dollars! To be used at Anderson's Department store towards a new pair of shoes and a new coat. Merry Christmas, Santa Claus.'"

"Twenty dollars!?" Jack and Race both quipped their eyes wide with disbelief as they moved through the group to get a better look at what Skittery held in his hands.

"That's what it says!" Skittery said, showing those around him the slip of paper to confirm that's what it really said. In the blink of an eye, a riot broke out in front of the ledger counter as everyone scrambled for their stockings, checking to see if they too received such an amazing gift. Once they were satisfied that they had each gotten a gift certificate, the younger kids ran for the tree to see what kinds of goodies awaited them there.

"'Ey…you don't t'ink any of this could be from Pulitzer, do ya?" Race asked to Jack as they stood and watched the little ones tear into packages of paper, pencils, paints, and crayons. Jack thought silently for a moment as he looked to where Squints and Murdoch were oohing over stacks of books, at least a dozen or more grade school readers for the kids followed by a dozen or so more advanced books by Jules Vern, Mark Twain, and other contemporary authors for the older teens. From a corner, Corky, Wish, Kidah, and Tellie all whooped with delight at the sight of brand new thick blankets—enough to give each boarder one to help keep warm at night. A small smile crept onto Jack's face as he turned to look at Race.

"Race, don't'cha know by now that Santa Claus brings all the presents?" He asked half seriously before turning and heading for the tree to see what else was hidden below its branches.

The bright morning sun shown down into the office of Mr. Joseph Pulitzer, illuminating everything it touched. The oak panel walls of the hallway hung bare and desolate once again, the decorations stripped from them and placed instead inside the Dune Street Lodging House. The tree that once sat in the lobby of the grand building had also been moved to a place far more deserving of at least a few nice things at Christmas. A checkbook ledger sat open on Joseph's desk; an amount (well over any amount the newsies could ever dream of) written down on it that to him was nothing more than chump-change.

Lying on one of the red leather couches in his office, Joseph grumbled and groaned softly as he began to wake up. His whole body ached from sleeping on the cramped couch. Still dressed in his fine suite from the day before, he sat up and very carefully stretched his arms, legs, and neck. In a way he was almost jealous of the newsies and their youth. He almost wished he could be a child or teen again, able to sleep anywhere and not wake up with a stiff and sore body. As he looked at his gold chained pocket watch, Pulitzer smiled slightly to himself. The newsies should have woken up and seen their surprise by then. Standing and moving for the window, Joseph smiled down at the pristine city below. Christmas was a wonderful and magical time of the year for children, a time when anything was possible if you just believed, and now, even cold hearted Joseph Pulitzer had to agree.