Meanwhile, back in Puerto Rico, the mother passed by her window and pulled back the curtains. “I haven’t seen our squirrel friend recently. Have you, kids?”
“Mommy, Mommy, look!” Sara hollered.
“Look! Look!” Reid screamed.
“It’s OUR squirrel!”
“It is? Where?” Their mother ran into the room and spotted Shana on the TV. “Woah. What in the world … She’s on the news?”
“She’s with the Christmas squirrels in Chicago,” Reid cheered.
“Why does she have a rubber ducky with her?” Sara asked.
“And how did she get there?” their mother asked. “And why? She’s not even a squirrel.”
“She’s not a squirrel?” Reid stammered, surprised.
“Technically, she’s a mongoose,” their mother responded. “I mean, we call them squirrels in Puerto Rico, or ardillas in Spanish, but…”
“She’s so happy!” Sara squealed. “Look at her!”
“Breaking news,” the newscaster interrupted, “a tiny mongoose, named Shana, had a very special Christmas wish—to be a Christmas squirrel. She traveled from Puerto Rico to Chicago, where her dreams were dashed when she learned she wasn’t actually a squirrel. But, in the true spirit of Christmas, the squirrels adopted her and made her Christmas wish come true. Now, the President of the United States has named her our National Christmas Squirrel. Congratulations, Shana!”
“Well, I’ll be!” their mother exclaimed as her children cheered. “I can’t believe it.”
* * *
A week later, on a crisp, golden morning, Sara and Reid rushed to the window, their hearts thumping with anticipation. Ever since the world had embraced Shana as the National Christmas Squirrel, they hoped she might return.
“Do you think she’ll come back?” Sara asked, her voice tinged with hope.
They peeked out the window, and their excitement erupted into squeals of joy.
Perched on their ledge was Shana and her ducky friend—their Santa suits slightly rumpled but Shana’s bright eyes sparkled with joy as she saw the children she remembered from her daily nut hunts.
“Mommy, look! Shana’s back!” Sara bounced with excitement.
Their mother hurried over, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Well, would you look at that? Our little Shana is home.”
Shana chittered softly, her tiny paw tapping the window as if to say, “I missed you.”
Reid darted into the kitchen, grabbed a hazelnut cupcake, and placed it on the ledge in front of her.
“Here you go, Shana! You deserve it!”
Shana sniffed the treat, her heart swelling with happiness, and took an enormous bite. The sweet, nutty flavor she imagined when she first saw those cupcakes filled her senses, and a wave of happiness washed over her. This was home—the place where she was loved for exactly who she was, whatever that may be. And as the sun rose in the morning sky, Shana drifted into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of snowy squares, festive lights, and the joy of coming home.