The days leading up to Christmas at Casa de los Niños were a whirlwind of chaotic, joyous activity. The old building, usually a place of quiet, ordered routine, was transformed into a festive wonderland, a testament to the resilient, irrepressible spirit of the children who called it home.
Mateo, for the first time in years, was at the heart of it all. He was not the distant, mythical figure they watched on television; he was just Mateo, their brother, their friend, their hero. And he threw himself into the Christmas preparations with a quiet, focused intensity that was usually reserved for the football pitch.
He spent his mornings in the courtyard, a place that had once been his sanctuary, his training ground, his escape. But now, it was a classroom, and he was the teacher.
He organized a small, informal football clinic for the younger children, a group of wide-eyed, energetic boys and girls who looked at him with a mixture of awe and adoration.
