Last Christmas, like I do every Christmas, I spent time reading local “Kids’ Letters to Santa Claus”. I always find this an intensely moving experience, as it is somehow — if even for just a moment — being allowed inside that most hopeful place of wishes and dreams and magic that exists in the heart of every child.

When reading these letters, you find yourself both stunned and humbled by the requests that some of these children make. And furthermore, I have found that the lower the income level of the child, the more profound, moving, and selfless these requests become; they are pure.

Some ask for toys or coats for younger brothers and sisters. Some ask for new shoes for mothers. Some ask just to know their fathers. Some even ask simply for food. They are each a wish, sent off into the sky, by someone who still believes in wishes.

But last year, one letter that moved me in particular was the request of a 10 year old boy named Juan. Juan asked for a Barbie doll for his little sister, a video game for his little brother…and for himself, for Christmas, he asked for school supplies.

School supplies.

I read that, and I wept. He didn’t ask for toys or gadgets or bikes or money. He asked for paper, pencils, rulers, felt-tip pens, notebooks, binders, and folders. He asked for what my children, what most children, take completely for granted. He asked for those things that would help him to learn and to more fully participate in his education.

Needless to say, I answered Juan’s call. I had to — because Juan was like me. The most important thing in the world to him was LEARNING.

And so, a few weeks ago, I was at Staples getting back-to-school supplies with my three children — and I thought of Juan. I wondered if he was getting back-to-school supplies, too. I wondered if his parents could afford to get him all that he needed for the new school year. And then, in between the backpacks and the slide-rules, IT HIT ME.

THE IDEA HIT ME.

Why not ask a large corporation like Staples to institute a program where kids-in-need could come at the end of the summer and register what they needed/wanted for school — and where moms like me, who were already there shopping for their own children — could add a binder here, or a calculator there to fulfill those wish-lists?

WHY NOT?

It wouldn’t hurt moms like me in the least — after all, what’s another $3 or $5 or $10 when we’re already dropping $100 or more?

It wouldn’t hurt Staples Corporation IN THE LEAST — after all, think of all the extra bidness and goodwill they would engender with the community by instituting such a program. They could even match a certain amount of the gifts dollar for dollar or notebook for notebook… and write it all off at tax time.

And last — and most importantly — there would be hundreds, if not thousands, of community children who would go to school on the first day, with confidence…emboldened by the fact that they have all the supplies and equipment they require to keep up with any other kid on campus — and to surpass them even, if they so choose. It would level the playing field. It would give them a fighting chance. It would help them learn — not just reading, writing, and ‘rithmetic…but that someone cared enough to help, and that, in turn, they should care enough to help someone else when they are able and called upon to do so in their own lives.

It is a win-fucking-win proposition — and I am calling Staples Corporation first thing tomorrow morning to propose it.