My Mother-in-Law Gave My Daughter a Cheap Candle at Christmas—Then My Seven-Year-Old Calmly Handed Her a Red Box That Made Her Scream

the chandelier light and threw defiant little rainbows across Lorraine’s pristine white tablecloth. Her small fingers, usually stained with markers or cookie dough, were wrapped around a small red gift box with the focused intensity of a soldier holding live ammunition.