The Child

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?

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