Tis the night before Christmas β¦ and the scent of gingerbread hung in the air. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, but a sudden gust down the flue made them sway. Then, a soft thump followed not by reindeer hooves, but by a gentle, confused honk. Peering into the hearth, we found a small, travel-weary penguin adorned with a tiny, ice-encrusted scarf. A tag read: βPablo β Rooftop Express, Final Stop: South Pole. Clearly, off-course.β
Thatβs how our quiet Christmas Eve turned into a rescue mission. We fashioned a cozy crate, shared our milk and cookies (he preferred the fish-shaped crackers), and plotted. With the help of a neighborβs drone and a call to a 24-hour zoo, we learned a small aircraft carrying animals for a holiday exhibit had passed overhead. Pablo had fallen from a carelessly latched carrier!
By first light, a kind zookeeper was at our door. As Pablo waddled into his secure carrier, he turned and bowed. Left behind in the blanket was a perfect, gleaming blue feather. We tucked it into the treeβs star.
Now, every Christmas Eve, we leave a few fish crackers by the fireplace. And sometimes, if you listen very closely over the crackle of the fire, you can hear a faint, friendly honk from somewhere far up in the winter skyβa little traveler, finally on the right path, wishing us all a merry Christmas. π§πβ¨