Daddy said “Don’t open the box,” but it’s Christmas. Who doesn’t open
stuff at Christmas-time? When Dad’s not looking I pull on the ribbon and
climb inside my spaceship, rattling, shaking its way to the stars. But I
don’t know why it lands me on a freezing cold hillside. Sheep bleat miserably and Christmas tree fairies sing carols out of tune. A boy tugs my arm, shouting, “Hurry! Come and see.” Then my Dad takes the box away from me. “I thought I told you…” I open my eyes to Sunday’s choir and church. But how? What’s in the box?