Johnny brought me some paper and a broken crayon (Strawberry Red).


So I wrapped it up (again), hoping that this time he would forget about the tape.

He didn't.


So I taped it up (again), gave it to him, and he danced, beaming like Chesterton's sun.


Then he opened his gift, marveled at the shard of pink-red wax, and asked me to wrap it again.

Because that is what crayons, pens, and paper are for: unwrapping wonder and making it new, again and again and again.

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