I awoke to a gentle knock at my door, accompanied by the kind voice of my sweet mother, a hint of concern laced into her attempt to coax me from my room.

"Daniel sweetie, are you awake? It's been snowing all morning. There should be enough to build a snowman in the park."

I rolled over and faced away from the door, pretending to be asleep. My tiny bedroom didn't have a window, so hearing that it had been snowing was unexpected and very welcome news. Under normal circumstances, I would have sprung up and quickly gotten dressed to take advantage of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Snow in Petalburg was already a very rare sight, but getting enough of it to stick to the ground for a snowman was almost unheard of.

Having it happen on Christmas? That was something that had never happened in all my years of living in Petalburg, and likely something I wouldn't see again for a long time, if ever. Of all the things my mom could have said to convince me to leave my bedrooom, that was hands-down the most convincing argument she could have come at me with.

That said, my embarrassment outweighed my excitement. Last night, after seeing my present wrapped neatly underneath the Christmas tree, years of repressed disappointment and resentment boiled over into what I could only describe as a nuclear meltdown on my mom. I'd known it was highly unlikely that I would be getting a Pokémon; she'd made it very clear that we couldn't risk getting evicted from the only apartment in Petalburg that she could afford, but there was a small part of me that thought she might have finally taken to heart my desperate promises that I could keep it hidden and take care of it.

I knew that my request wasn't realistic. Our apartment was so small that even with just the two of us, our living situation was cramped. The fact that I had my own bedroom was only thanks to my mother sleeping on the couch and insisting that 'children my age deserved a space to call their own and a sense of privacy'. Not only was space an issue, but adding another mouth to feed and the other potential costs of caring for a Pokémon were simply unfeasible.

For a long time, I'd thought we were a pretty normal family apart from the fact that my dad had passed away. I'd always known we weren't exactly well-off when I was told that things like trainer school were much too expensive, but my mom always did a good job of making me feel like a normal kid and it hadn't clicked with me until late in middle-school that we were indeed poor after multiple pieces of the puzzle clicked together.

I'd never given much thought to the fact that my school lunches were free, or the fact that we never had breakfast and ate boxed dinners or ramen almost exclusively. Plenty of kids had parents who worked long hours, and it wasn't exactly uncommon for my peers to be denied things that their parents deemed unnecessary or a waste of money.

But eventually, I'd realized just how close to the line of impoverishment we sat. It was the combination of a lot of things; the fact that we didn't have a household phone, that our TV was over a decade old and didn't have access to most of the popular shows others often talked about, the fact that my 'new' clothes seemed to have been previously used by somebody else, lots of little things like that eventually added up to paint a clear picture.

Still, it didn't stop me from dreaming that just maybe, this would be the year I finally got my starter, or at least a Pokéball. But after seeing the familiar shape of a box I knew contained a 'new' hoodie underneath our small, artificial tree, my pent-up frustrations washed over me and caused me to lash out.

My poor mother had sat there quietly and took it, not bothering to say a word as I unloaded everything I'd kept pent up. Looking back, I realized that my mother probably realized it was best for me to just get everything off my chest. I'd unfairly accused her of everything that I perceived as unfair; me not having a father, not having a Pokémon, not being able to go to trainer school, her constantly working because she had a shitty job. I'd taken everything in my life that felt unfair and blamed it on her, and after a night of stewing over what I'd done, all that was left was shame and embarrassment.

I sighed and rolled onto my back to stare at the ceiling as I heard my mom's footsteps lead her away from my door. She was obviously intent on pretending as though nothing had happened the night before, but I knew I owed her an apology. Despite how strong my mom always appeared, our paper-thin walls had informed me that my words hadn't been so easily brushed off. I'd heard muffled crying, and knew that my accusations had hit some deep insecurities. At the time, I was glad that she felt bad; clearly my situation wasn't my fault since I was only a kid, and who else could I blame other than my sole parent?

But after cooling off, I hated that I'd even had that thought. I knew she did the best she could, and her deep love for me was unmistakable. Despite how much she worked, she always made a point to spend time with me or take me to the park, even if I could tell she was hiding her exhaustion and would rather just relax. There was always a roof over our head and food on the table, and I had a sneaking suspicion that most of the times she claimed to be full and offered me the rest of her plate, she was only doing that for my sake and would go to bed hungry.

She was, despite the tough situation we found ourselves in, was a wonderful person and mother. Always optimistic and happy, always willing to ignore the negative in life in favor of what she called 'life's little blessings'. She didn't deserve the things I'd said to her, and after the hard-work I knew she'd done in preparation for this Christmas, she definitely didn't deserve to have it ruined because of my selfishness.

Yet there I was, laying in bed and refusing to come out of my room, only making matters worse. I'd ruined Christmas Eve, and was currently in the process of ruining a very special and rare snowy Christmas morning with my refusal to confront the horrible things I'd said. I sighed as I finally roused myself from my bed and got dressed, deciding that I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I kept things going any longer. I knew my mother well enough to know how things would go; I'd leave my bedroom to find her sitting on the couch with a warm smile drinking a cup of hot cocoa, a Christmas tradition among our family and something she always made sure she saved up for since she knew how much I liked it. She'd offer me a cup and act like nothing happened last night for my sake, and she'd spend her day off making sure I had the best Christmas I could.

It was so predictable… and yet one of the things I loved most about my mom. No matter what happened or how bad things actually were for her, whether it be financial hardship, stress, or exhaustion, she always made it a point to keep things seemingly normal. It was always business as usual and nothing to be concerned with, just a small bump in the road.

I owed it to her to make things right. I knew for a fact that I needed to apologize, but if she wanted to start off the morning acting like nothing had happened, I'd happily oblige until the time was right for me to make things right.

Looking back, I'm incredibly grateful that I did. I obviously didn't know it at the time, but it would be the last Christmas I'd ever spend with her, and between the snow and the heartfelt conversation we'd have after building a snowman, it would be one I would always cherish and remember fondly until the day I died, despite the rockiness.

But in a way, that only made it more special. It was perfectly 'us'; pushing through hardships to enjoy the simple pleasures life had to offer and appreciating that no matter how much things could have been better, at least we had each other.

"Mom… I'm sorry about what I said last night…" I muttered remorsefully as we sat on the park bench marveling at the light snowfall and the barely passable snowman we'd managed to create with the very limited snow at our disposal.

She wrapped an arm around me and pulled me closer, kissing my forehead before giving me a warm smile. "It's fine, Daniel. We don't have to talk about it. You have every right to feel that way, and it's healthy that you got your frustrations off your chest."

"No, I said horrible things… I blamed you for dad, not having a Pokémon, for our… situation. I was just frustrated," I admitted as I leaned into her warmth.

She sighed, gaining a distant look and staring off for a moment before she spoke up.

"Life doesn't always turn out the way we want it to. I wish I could have given you a better life, Daniel. If your father was still around, things might have been better… Maybe then I could have sent you to trainer school, gotten you a Pokémon, better Christmas gifts… There's so many things I wish were different for you, I'd give you the world if I could; your father would have too. I wish he could be here with us…"

I saw a few tears well up in her eyes, and I wrapped an arm around her to squeeze her tightly in support. She quickly wiped them away when she realized that I had noticed, and settled back into her usual warm smile.

"The first couple of Christmases after your dad died were rough for me. You were probably too young to remember, but I used to get a bit depressed when Christmas came around. It brought up painful memories and reminded me of all the things I couldn't do for you, no matter how hard I tried… But after a couple of years, I realized there was no point dwelling over the past. Why dwell over things we can't have when there's so much in life to be thankful for?"

"Like snow on Christmas? Have you ever seen anything like this?" I asked curiously.

She nodded, "Only once, but it wasn't quite as impressive as this. It wasn't enough to build a snowman, but just the fact that it snowed at all was enough for me. Not just the snow though, Daniel. Christmas is about appreciating the things you have, and even if it seems like there's plenty we don't, it doesn't nearly compare to what we do. We have a roof over our heads, food on the table every night, you have good grades and a clean bill of health, and most of all we have each other."

"I acted horribly last night," I admitted, "I hope you can forgive me. I didn't mean what I said, I know it's not your fault that dad died or that our apartment doesn't allow Pokémon."

She kissed my cheek and gave me a serious look, "Nothing you can ever do will stop me from loving you, Daniel. That's what family is about; unconditional love and support. You could fail out of school or become a common thief, and although I'd be disappointed I'd never stop loving you."

"You work so hard for my sake… I wish I could help. Can't I find some odd-jobs around town to help? I'd be able to help with the bills, and maybe the two of us could afford a better apartment. Then I could have a Pokémon, and–"

"Absolutely not, young man. You're still a kid, and kids deserve to enjoy their childhood. You still have a few years until you need to worry about all the things us adults do, cherish them while you still have the chance. In the blink of an eye, you'll look back to this moment and wish you could go back to when times were more simple."

"I'm not a little kid anymore, mom. I'm not so childish to still think I'll ever be Champion, but I know I can be a top trainer if I try. I'll have to work extra hard, but if you can do it so can I," I said resolutely. "Plenty of successful trainers got their starter late, or didn't go to trainer school. I'll start doing lots of research to prepare for my journey, and I'll find a way to support myself so you don't have to. I'll beat the gyms, win tournaments, and earn enough that you never have to work another day in your life. I'll provide for you so you don't have to work as hard, and I'll make you proud."

She chuckled, "I'm already so proud of you, honey. You're beginning to grow into a fine young man, but you're still a kid as much as you like to insist you aren't. It wasn't so long ago you wanted to be Champion, you know. If you are still determined to be a trainer when you're old enough, I'll support you anyway I can. I doubt I'll be of much help, and I'll miss you terribly and worry about you constantly, but I know you can do anything you put your mind to. Just promise me you won't do it for my sake, just focus on what makes you happy."

"I promise I'll visit you often. I'll get a Pokémon that can Teleport me home, and I won't miss a single holiday. I'll send you money so you don't have to work so hard, and I'll buy you a nice home on the outskirts of town you can retire in. Then you can have a Pokémon so you won't be so lonely, too."

"That's very thoughtful of you, sweetie, but I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, you know I'll always manage. As long as I know you are happy and safe, that's enough for me."

"Have you ever wanted to have a Pokémon, mom? What would you get if you could?" I asked curiously.

"I don't know much about Pokémon, honey. I can't say I've ever given much thought to it, it's just never been an option. If I had to pick though, I think I'd choose Eevee, although they are quite rare and expensive. They are just so darn cute though, every time I see a photo or video of one, my heart melts."

"I'll get you a house and an Eevee someday, I promise. That way you can stop working so hard, and you won't be alone." I said with conviction.

She giggled and ruffled my hair, "That's very sweet of you, but I'll be fine on my own. I wouldn't have the faintest idea of how to care for a Pokémon, anyway. Focus on what you want, and use any money you earn to invest in yourself. It's only natural for a parent to do everything they can for their children, but I'm much too young for you to be worrying about me."

I gave my mom a serious look, "But I don't want you to be lonely or to work so hard. You'd be lonely if I went on a journey. Maybe you could find a new husband or something? I promise I'll be nice, even though I don't know if I'll ever feel comfortable calling them dad."

She gave me a sad smile, "Honey, it's Christmas. Today isn't about thinking of what we want our future to hold, but appreciating what we have right now. Right now, I have you and you have me, and we got to build a snowman on Christmas. We got to enjoy a warm glass of hot cocoa, you got a new hoodie that's keeping you warm, and we had a snowy Christmas morning. What else could we possibly ask for?"

I glanced at the snowman, and noticed that it was beginning to sag a bit. It already wasn't the most impressive snowman when we'd first finished it, but the sun was coming out and the snow had stopped, and it was slowly but surely beginning to take its toll.

"He's not looking too good," I pointed out, "I think he's melting already."

She chuckled, "That only proves the point I was trying to make. Take a good, long look at it. It could have been better and it won't last for long, but it's a memory we can always cherish, and we made the best with what we had."

I took her advice and gave our snowman a long look, committing it to memory. After a moment, she spoke up again.

"Just like that cute little snowman we made, or the hoodie you're wearing, or the time we get to spend together, no good things last forever. I used to miss your father on Christmas, but now I use it as a reminder of all the good times we had together, and how thankful I am to be blessed with such an amazing son. Someday you'll be off living your life, I'll be happy knowing you're chasing your dreams and experiencing all life has to offer. Things won't always be easy for you; you'll experience hardships, heartbreak, and disappointment. Life can be chaotic and hard, but that's part of the beauty of it. No matter how bad things seem, or how much we wish things were better, there's always plenty to be grateful for if we just open our eyes and hearts to allow ourselves to see them."

I stared ahead and considered her words, feeling various emotions boiling up.

Guilt, for what I'd done the night before and for considering a journey that would leave her alone in Petalburg.

Sadness, for the cards that life had dealt my mom and the fact that she may never find another soulmate.

Confliction, if I should take the hint the universe kept dropping that I was simply never meant to be a Pokémon trainer, and if I should just find something in Petalburg so I can stay with my mom.

But all of that vanished in an instant as the head of our snowman slipped off and broke into the ground. Perhaps it was completely coincidental, but it struck me as a sign from some higher being, perhaps even Arceus, that my mom was right, just as she always was.

Sure, I could have been sad or upset. I could wish that things were different, that our future was brighter, and that our snowman had been bigger, better, and lasted longer. But in that moment, I realized that part of what made this Christmas so special was how we spent it together as a family and made the most of what we had.

There was no use mourning our snowman, what could have been, or what might be. We'd done something truly special here today, and all that I was left with was appreciation.

For my mom, for snow on Christmas, for our barely passable and now deceased snowman, for my warm and untattered hoodie, and for all the possibilities that the future held. All the new memories I could make, and all the opportunity in the world to change things for the better.

I heard my mom stifle a giggle, and that was enough to send me over the edge of a full-on fit of laughter, which she couldn't help but join in. I laughed as hard as I could ever remember, and all the sadness, regret, worry, and other negativity that had been beginning to build was gone in an instant, just like our snowman.

After we finally got it out of our system, we sat in silence and appreciated the moment for another minute before my mom finally spoke up.

"I think we're done here. Want to go back home, where it's warm? We've got more cocoa."

I stood with a nod, and once she was on her feet I suddenly hugged her tightly. I don't know what came over me, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Whatever the reason, to this day I'm incredibly thankful that I did. I had no idea at the time, but that would not only be the last Christmas I'd ever spend with my mother, but also the last time I ever give her a proper hug. I've never really believed in a higher power and only used Arceus' name out of convenience, but I can't help but think that they played some role in that day. Despite its rocky start and our lackluster snowman coming to a gruesome and untimely demise, somehow it all wove together to be the perfect last Christmas we would spend together.

"I love you mom… Merry Christmas," I muttered as I tightened my grip.

She kissed my head and returned my embrace, "I love you too, Daniel Ingram. No matter how much time has passed, how much distance separates us, or what you do in life, always remember that I love you."

Thankfully, that wouldn't be the last time that I told my mom I loved her. One of the things that brings me great comfort to this day is knowing that I told my mom I loved her as I left for school the morning of her death, just as I always did. But hugging had become a much rarer occurrence as I got older, and had I not given her that hug I wouldn't be able to confidently remember the last time we'd embraced before her untimely death.

"Come on sweetie; let's go have some more cocoa and warm up."

I nodded, taking her hand as we made our way back home through the slushy mess of melting snow with a feeling of deep contentment.

That last Christmas with my mom will always stick with me. It taught me a lot of lessons that I hope to carry with me for the rest of my life. Empathy and compassoin for another person's struggles and perspective, the value of looking at the bright side even when things may seem bleak or unfair, and the importance of expressing love for those you hold most dear.

I have no doubt that had I not given my mom that hug, it would have made no difference in how she felt about me when she died. Her love for me was unquestionable, and I can say with pretty high confidence that she knew how much I loved her too.

But to me, that hug and the memories from that day that accompany it are priceless. What could have very well been the worst Christmas of my life and the biggest regret I would carry to my grave turned out to be my most treasured memory. I have no doubt that as the seasons come and go and my memory slowly begins to dull from time and age, one thing that will always stick with me is the overwhelming love, contentment, and gratitude I felt on that day.

That, and the memory of the headless snowman who had impeccable timing with comedic relief when we needed it most. Though the finer details of exactly how he looked are already beginning to fade, the importance of his sacrifice will live on until I take my last breath.

A tear running down my cheek caused me to wake up and realize that I had accidentally taken a quick nap while waiting for my clothes to dry. I wiped my eyes dry, wondering why I'd just dreamed about that particular memory considering it wasn't anywhere near Christmas.

I quickly realized that it was due to the feeling of deep contentment I was feeling as I had been laying down; when I really thought about it, that memory would surely be the closest I could recall to feeling like that.

I sat up with a stretch, glancing at the clock and feeling immensely relieved that I hadn't overslept. My nap had only been about twenty or so minutes, but now that my clothes were dry I was excited to finish the day off strong.

"Love you mom," I muttered as I stood and retrieved my clothes before heading down to the lobby to retrieve my team from Nurse Joy and experience something new that would hopefully be yet another one of life's small blessings I could add to the list of things I was feeling grateful for.

Sushi with my friend Samantha Stone, followed by some training and bonding with my new family.

A/N: It's a Christmas miracle! After two failed attempts, the third try was the charm and I got a version I felt comfortable publishing. It didn't get proofread by my beta-reader, is shorter than I would have liked, and didn't quite touch on everything I had originally planned, but I think I like how it turned out for the most part (even if I haven't had a chance to re-read it XD). Sorry if there's typos or anything; it's much more rough around the edges than I normally like to publish, so hopefully I didn't totally botch this. But perhaps, considering the day and what this chapter contains, that is fitting. Hopefully this chapter isn't TOO out of place for those who end up reading it months from now when it isn't Christmas. I almost marked it as a special interlude, but decided it held enough weight to be included in the main story. Hopefully I don't regret that; I almost added a hint at the front of the chapter that it was a dream, but I kind of like just dropping it in... Plus considering the end of the last chapter, I'd like to think it's obvious? Idk, thoughts welcome, might be better to make any adjustments sooner rather than later.

Merry Christmas, everyone! I appreciate you all!