My favorite stuffed animal when I was little was a tiger named FooFee (I guess I couldn't say tiger). FooFee had been loved a great deal, as evidenced by his lack of fur and missing face (my mom had done some hole patching over the years). Anyway, by the time I was 12, I had decided that maybe it was time to finally get rid of my beloved tiger. One day when my dad was taking a load to the dump, I bravely took FooFee to the garage and told Dad that maybe FooFee should go too. He didn't question my decision. We placed FooFee on top of the pile, and I thought that was that.

About six months later, Christmastime came, and about a week before Christmas, a mysterious present was placed under the tree. No one in my family of six would admit to putting it there. It became quite a big deal that whole week, all of us trying to get the others to confess their part in it. Still, by Christmas Eve, no one had any clue who the gift was from or who it was for.

My family opened our gifts on Christmas Eve. By the time dinner was finished on the big night, we couldn't wait to see who the mystery gift was for. We patiently unwrapped our gifts, hoping someone would finally let out the secret. At last, the mystery present was the only one left beneath the tree. We all looked at each other, waiting for someone to say something.

Finally, my dad announced, "It's for Diane." I couldn't believe it. My brother and sisters wanted me to hurry and open it. They knew it must be something really special. I got the wrapping off and opened the box, and there was FooFee! Dad said, "I couldn't let you throw FooFee away." Everyone in the family laughed and agreed. I was so happy I had FooFee again, and I have him to this day. Now my own daughters laugh whenever I tell the story about Grandpa's "mystery" gift.

--Diane Bretti, Arvada, Colorado