The pen ricocheted as it hit the ground . The misshapen heap of rags lurched a human hand , almost imperceptible underneath the fresh coat of dirt , darted out toward it . Sir , the voice was garbled , unused . He waved the pen pathetically after the nondescript stranger in the crisp suit . You dropped this . No one paid the man any attention . The bustle of people streamed past , unaware of the man at their feet . He turned the pen over in his hand . This was the nicest thing he ' d touched in ages . It was royal blue , heavy , and had gold accents . He had some old paper stuffed in his sleeping bag amongst the bundles of spare socks . With the morning rush cascading around him like a turbulent river over rocks , he began to writeDear Samantha , I won ' t be home for the holidays and I don ' t have the money for presents . I ' ve done everything in my power to get back to you , to get word to you , but I am still struggling here . Please know that I will do everything I can to see you , you have my entire heart , you the pen ran out of ink . He banged it on the floor and scribbled in the upper corner urging the ink to seep out . Nothing . Sighing , he stuffed the unfinished note back into his bag . He turned the pen over in his hand aimlessly .