The Monkey was living in a shelter and couldn’t seem to catch a break.
This was supposed to be a special time of year. Everyone it talked to was preparing to spend time with their loved ones. And everyone it saw hustled and bustled from shop to shop, buying all sorts of bobbles and contraptions, from Apples to Canons.
The Monkey felt left out of it all. It hurt to be alone.
Then, one day, the Monkey found a beautifully wrapped box sitting atop its bunk. There was no note or card, just cheerful paper and curly, bouncing ribbons.
Anything could be be inside. The Monkey’s mind raced with excitement at all the mystery material gifts that might lay within. It tore into the paper, pulled loose the ribbon and flung open the box flaps.
But there was nothing inside. The Monkey looked closer, examining each corner and crevice, before turning the box upside down and shaking it all around. Still nothing.
The Monkey slumped back and hung its head in dismay. What a cruel trick. Who would do such a thing?
But as the Monkey pondered this, it remembered how exciting it was to find that box. Someone had thought of the Monkey and wrapped up a box with care just for it. This magic little box was stuffed full of love.
After that, the Monkey was unstoppable. It stood tall and proud, with its shoulders back and chest jutting out, carrying that box everywhere for a week. With its budding confidence and sense of community, the Monkey soon found a way to get out of the shelter and get a new lease on life.
On Christmas Eve, as the Monkey prepared to move to its new home, it went out and got some new wrapping paper and shiny ribbons. And the Monkey wrapped up that box that it cherished so much and placed it at the foot of another Monkey’s bunk, to be found on Christmas morning.
