A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Chocolateness

My sisters mailed us a fat padded envelope with "Open Now" written across the sealing flap. That's not unusual at Christmastime--could be something edible or decorative, something you'd want to use before the morning of the 25th.

Inside the envelope was this very nice candy box. Velvet-textured lid, fine red bow.

Empty.

Why on Earth would my sisters send me a candy box without candy?

I turned it over to find handwriting I haven't seen in a few years but know as well as my own:

That's Mom. My sisters were going through a stash of old Christmas decorations, found the box, and thought I should have it. Of course I have no memory of giving it to her, but she never forgot getting it.

My sisters can just take back any presents they've bought me and save their money, because I can't imagine anything they could give me that would match the prettiest box of candy my Mom ever received.