Little Billy had a Christmas wish. In point of fact, he had several. Several little things he’d like.
He had a friend named Sarah, whose hair he thought was pretty. It was nothing more than that. He was too young to love her, to think her a crush. But he did think her hair was pretty. So he wished for similar. For his head to have as nice a blond look as her.
And so he did. When Christmas day came around he found inside his gift a wig, which he proudly placed on his head.
Now, Little Billy was a popular kid. He had many warm friends. And some of them also had things he wanted.
He had a friend name Kyle, whose feet found sports easy and quick. He could make so many baskets that Little Billy could not. And Little Billy was, admittedly, a bit jealous. Just a little. He wished he could run and jump so well.
And so, on Christmas day, he looked in his second gift and found a pair of tennis shoes. Heavy and made of rubber. He put them on and walked around with them, despite how odd they felt on his feet.
Now, Little Billy was happy. He walked around the Christmas tree, laughing with his blond wig and shoes that made him too tall. But soon enough he tripped and fell. Nothing serious. Little Billy was a tough boy. He could take it.
But what he found when he tripped, nestled behind the tree, was present number three. Wrapped and with a bow. Shiny and purple. He moved the tag around and found his name on it. It was his, it belonged to him. And it seemed obvious he would get a third. Like a genie. A nice happy genie.
But, he wondered. What friend could this third gift be because of?
Jimmy? With his always cool superhero shirts?
Or maybe Barbara? She always had that stuffed animal with her, and Little Billy had often wanted a bear of equal size. Though without a bow of course.
Perhaps it was Kevin? His mom always bought him cool snacks in that lunchbox. And Little Billy suspected that a cool lunchbox allowed one to get the best snacks.
Or even Jill, with her singing. Her ability to always know all the words to the latest pop song. No matter how difficult it’s lyrics.
He dreamed a little longer before finally letting curiosity take root, and he opened the box. The wrapping fell in a neat little pile next to him, for Little Billy was a clean boy. And when he looked inside, he smiled. He should have guessed. It was obvious. It wasn’t a student, but his teacher that he wanted something from.
Yes, indeed. Mrs. Honey. His sweet teacher, who was always nice to him. He wanted to be as nice as her. To have as a big a heart.
And when he took it out of the box—still beating–he was happy that he got all his Christmas wishes.
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