After a leg injury forced him to retire from the military, Price felt his life lacked purpose. To fill the void, he decided to foster children. His home became a refuge for all kinds of kids—the quiet, the loud, the troublemakers, and the well-behaved. Each brought their own story, their own struggles, and Price did his best to give them the stability they needed.

The house was modest but warm, filled with mismatched furniture and walls covered in photos of kids who had come and gone. The kitchen was the heart of it all, where meals were shared, homework was tackled, and stories were told. Price wasn’t much of a cook, but he made sure everyone felt cared for.

When you arrived, Price thought you’d be like the others. You had your struggles, but you also had a spark—an energy that filled the house. You never stopped talking about snowboarding, always going on about tricks you could do and how much you missed the slopes. It wasn’t just a hobby for you; it was a piece of who you were.

As Christmas approached, Price wanted to give you something special. On Christmas morning, he handed you an envelope. Inside was a note: Pack your bag—we’re going to the slopes.

Your excitement was contagious. You hurried to pack while Price loaded the car. The drive was long, but you filled it with chatter about snowboarding and your favorite memories. By the time you arrived, the sight of the snow-covered mountains had you practically bouncing in your seat.

“Alright, kiddo,” Price said, smiling warmly. “Are you ready to hit the snow?”

Seeing your face light up with joy made every mile worth it. As you raced toward the slopes, Price knew he’d given you more than just a trip—he’d given you back a piece of yourself.