Once upon a time there was a young girl named Panumbra.  She was so named because everywhere she went, all shadows flocked to her.  But the more shadows attached themselves to her, the harder she became to see.  So, tired of always fading into the background, she gathered all the shadows she could and put them in a jar.

At first it was great.  Little kids stopped checking under their beds.  Lovers walked freely under streetlights.  Young girls with baskets walked unhindered through thick woods.  For the first time in her life, Panumbra was able to walk into a room without disappearing. 

But then Panumbra began to realize that shadows weren't all bad.  Little kids missed playing shadow puppets with their parents.  Cats missed chasing their shadows across floors.  Lovers missed watching their shadows twine into one.  And groundhogs?  Local unemployment offices were suddenly overrun by hordes of small angry mammals.

Overcome by guilt, she went into her yard and unscrewed the lid.  Shadows poured out and assumed their proper places in the world.  She learned two lessons that day:  wood chucks can chuck a lot of wood, and that without shadows, there can be no bright spots in life.