I would like to say the timing couldn't be worse. Three weeks before Christmas. Seven months before the first college tuition payment is due for our teenager. Just six years after we carried a bundle of fluff over the doorsteps of our home and directly into our hearts. 

The truth is, there is no good time to find out your 6-year-old bundle of love with four paws and a tail has cancer. 

No, this isn't a column about a dog who has changed her family's life entirely and who likely has little time left. Not exactly. 

The news came Friday, after thousands of dollars in testing done three weeks before Christmas because that is the promise we made 6 years ago to a defenseless creature who had given us the promise of unconditional love and affection. We are her people. We are her protectors. 

This would be devastating news on any day of any week of any year. 

But this news came the day before my family was set to volunteer as a unit at the Delaware Youth Center's Christmas party for local children. 

I had pledged my photography skills to capture the special moments when children meet Santa. My teenage daughter had promised to play Santa's elf. And I think you can guess what my husband had promised to do that day. 

We walked into the Youth Center with our hearts hurting to help the volunteers set up for a day of holiday magic. We're just cogs in this wheel, after all. It's a Callicoon tradition that's put together year after year, decade after decade, by countless dedicated volunteers who give of their time (and more) over and over and over again. 

And just like that, we were pulled into the holiday magic machine. I set up my lights. Santa tightened his belt. The elf prepped for gathering kids' names to whisper to Santa and all the other things that elves do. Trees were decorated, gifts set up just so, a huge collection of books laid out for children to select a special story or two. 

Our first child peeked her head 'round the corner, her eyes widening at the sight of a bearded man in a red suit who could fulfill all her dreams and wishes. We were off to the races. 

For two and a half hours, we thought of nothing more than making children feel the magic of the holiday season, children who have hopes of a family of rabbits arriving beneath their Christmas tree, children who told Santa all they really want is for their family to be happy and healthy, and yes, a few children who were absolutely certain this strange man in the bright red get-up was not to be trusted. 

We saw old friends. We met new babies. We laughed and laughed  and laughed. 

At the end of it all, we realized that we hadn't cried, even once, hadn't made mention of the pain that had seemed to envelop us in the past 24 hours. 

It's back now, of course. These next few weeks will test us all. 

But if there was ever a time we needed to be able to volunteer to help others feel good, this weekend was that time. 

When we give back, we get back. It really is that simple.