Rachel gives us the prompt of a wrapped present this week.
It was the biggest parcel, almost bigger than the tree, and it had her name on it.
She couldn’t wait to open it.
Everyone gathered round to watch. She tore the paper off and found another box.
She ripped the paper off that as well, and inside were wads of rolled up newspaper and another parcel.
No clues, just box after box, and the mountain of paper was piling up.
The family started to laugh at her frustration.
By the time she’d reached the tenth, she plopped herself down and said ‘How many more?’
‘Not many,’ he said. ‘You’re nearly there.’
Inside box number 14 was a key.
‘What’s this? It looks like the key to the garage.’
‘Try it and see.’
She went outside and fitted the key into the lock.
The door opened, and what she saw inside made her want to weep.
Covered in ribbons and bows was a rocking chair, just like the one her grandma had, the one that she rocked her to sleep in or held her if she was frightened in the thunder, the one where all new babies were sung lullabies to.
She stroked her bulging belly and smiled.