"It's so cold!'' my sister Sara whined as she shivered in the deep snow. I'd have to agree with her on that but she's always complaining. I like cold weather, even if it was five degrees out. Yet, today, I was happy that in a few days we would be on a warm island called Bermuda. I heard that it has never gotten in the thirties there! At least it would give Sara a reason no to be grumpy.

The next few days went by slowly and I mostly stayed inside waiting for Wednesday when we would go to the airport. I had a feeling that I would be back in the freezing weather seemingly all too soon after basking in the sun in Bermuda.

Wednesday finally came and I guess I must have been daydreaming because, before I new it, we were in the boarding line. The plane was delayed because the runway had to be cleared of the snow. Our first trip took us from Montana to Boston and the next one from Boston to Bermuda.

Bermuda was beautiful and that was an understatement. It was warm almost hot out, but a cool breeze filled the air. During the ride on our way to our relatives' house, I looked out the window. It was great because I got to see everything because the speed limit was much slower than I'm used to.

Sara was asleep, finally tired from all the excitement; after all, she's only five. My parents were talking, and I guess some of it was directed at me, but I wasn't really listening.

I had just seen something that made my breath stick in my throat. It was a small dog, limping around on the sidewalk, its head bent so low that it was almost touching the ground.

"Stop!'' I said not thinking what I was saying, "Um, I mean, please pull over, there's a...'' but the driver was already slowing down and getting out of the way of the oncoming cars.

I jumped out of the car and bent down to examine the dog. It had a collar with an address so we could easily take it back to its owner. The dog made me think of Buddy, our dog back home and how said it would be to lose him.

I took a look at my mom who was hurrying out of the car to see what I had found. When I saw her worried expression as she saw the dog, I didn't feel totally embarrassed about making the taxi driver pull over.

The dog didn't try to limp away but instead collapsed at our feet. I gently lifted it up and followed my mom back to the car. On the way to the vets, I tried to figure out what had happened to the dog.

Despite the warm air in the cab, it shivered and whined. Sara looked upset at the state that the dog was in, skinny with drooping ears and a bleeding leg that we had tried to bandage up, so I forced a smile.

"He'll be fine,'' I said, trying to sound convincing. I wasn't an expert on these things but the dog didn't look in that bad condition, I hoped.

"What terrible shape to be in on the day before Christmas Eve. He was probably on his way home and he was hit by a bike,'' the vet explained as she looked at the dog.

"The funny thing,'' she continued "is that his eyes are bright and, if it's possible, filled with longing and hope.'' I peered into the dog's eyes, a deep brown that seemed to fill the whole room and I saw them sparkle. Seems weird doesn't it? But I could swear that the dog had been blessed and contained a Christmas spirit brighter than any I had ever seen.

Well, I've heard that a dog is man's best friend and maybe it is because they are so human like and that is what gives that dog the Christmas spirit.

My family and I waited in the waiting room and my dad thanked and paid the driver and sent him on his way because we didn't know how long this would take.

I guess it was about an hour later that the vet came out with the dog. She was carrying him and he had a white cast over the injured leg. His ears were perked up, though, and he looked more awake.

My parents didn't object to taking the dog home to its owner and, luckily, the vet didn't either.

When we got to the house which was on a small hill overlooking the ocean, I picked up the dog, walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. A little girl answered the door and it was obvious from her tear stained face that she had been crying.

When she saw the dog, her whole face lit up; it was amazing to see, it was like she had just received the best present in the world! When I thought about it, maybe she had from her point of view.

She was about to take the dog when her eye spotted something on the ground; it was a small purple flower. She picked it up and held it out to me with a smile.

"Thanks, and Merry Christmas,'' she said. When I turned back to look at her I stopped. Where there should have been a girl there stood a large man in a red suit with a round stomach and a white beard. He winked and then disappeared behind the door. But before he went, I thought I heard him say, "She'll make a fine elf.'' Jessica Bacon, age 12, drew an injured dog in her story, `The Test'.