Other than the postcards from the road Keith Rea sends, which are always fun, and the junk mail Sarah gives her to open, Che receives little mail.
Packages arrive numerous times through the day because it's Christmas and the Pandemic shopping's all the rage because there's nothing on shelves in stores. Che wants each to be hers but they never are so she's over-the-moon excited ripping open the pink envelope with her name on it.
Exchanging glances and shrugging shoulders, Sarah nor I have a clue who's it from.
Her tiny hand reaches in and pulls out a locket and a tiny black and white computer generated photo of Sarah and me.
There's nothing else so we have no idea who's giving the gift.
Holding the tiny black-and-white picture in one hand, Sarah holds the locket to the light and grins.
"We're in here Che," she explains while demonstrating how to find us.
"Whoa," our daughter gasps.
Wrestling with demons inside our little girl wears a locket every day when she leaves for school with our pictures in it.
She never forgets and the locket shows. It's scratched silver surface is perpetually open and my picture keeps disappearing reinforcing those demons she fights every day.
The new pendant is elegant, concise and safe. Che can see Sarah and I anytime she wants by holding it towards the light.
Magi no longer have to travel when you have Google and Amazon at your disposal and without a return address we have no idea if they're from east or not.
But like Mary after the first royal gifts were given, Sarah and I hold this in our hearts.
