First Snow Happy [FICTION]

Another winter began without that first hint of snow. Most years, our little town gets only a soft sprinkling of snow that makes the small hills look like powdered donuts poking up out of the landscape. Then the sun comes out and melts the frosted flakes of winter joy away. I contemplated this as I waited for the sun to come up and summon Elfis back to his place on our shelf. As the big day draws closer, his reports to Santa seem to happen later and later. Or maybe he gets drafted into last minute toy creation as the pressure increases.

As the sun rose, I gasped. The world outside fluttered with huge, fluffy, perfect flakes of snow. No confectioner’s sugar concoctions lay beyond the glass. Banks and banks of snow begged to be scooped up and compacted for use as a projectile or friend creation. As I thought this, two tiny voices cheered behind me.

“Snow!”

“Where’s my snow suit?”

By the time, Elfis arrived to sneak back onto his shelf, two tiny Eskimos stood before me, ready to brave the cold to make new friends from nature’s bounteous holiday gift. He beamed at us and launched into song:

“Snow happy, yes, I'm snow happy

Snow happy, can't you see?

“Every pile of snow looks good to me

What a crazy way-out way to be

I love a life of nothing but frosty white snow

Well I'm snow happy, yes, I'm snow happy

Snow happy, can't you see?

“Every time I see that icy lace

A snowman forms in that space

I need snowflakes to make my life worth living

Yes, I'm snow happy, yes, I'm snow happy

Snow happy, can't you see?

“I've been like this since I was just a baby boy

First winter snow stopped my tears and made me jump for joy

Don’t keep those snowflakes out of sight

I'm in a snowball mood tonight

I love a life of nothing but beautiful snowflakes

Well, I'm snow happy, yes, I'm snow happy

Snow happy, can't you see?

“I've been like this since I was just a baby boy

First winter snow stopped my tears and made me jump for joy

Snow happy, well, I'm snow happy

Yes, I'm snow happy, can't you see?

Snow happy, said I'm snow happy

Yes, I'm snow happy, can't you see?”

Then he settled down, smile in place and went to sleep on his shelf.

~~~

Confess now. Does your elf sing to you? What would you do if they did?

Always Home for the Holidays [FICTION]

A week into our yearly invasion by our number one elf and I am ready to let sugarplums dance through my head while waiting for Santa’s arrival. Of course, I have another four and a half weeks of baking cookies on demand, singing carols, and being called…

“Mother!” A voice not of my creation summons me into the living room.

I blink at the sparkle of bright lights and so much glitter that I almost feel like every craft store in the area must be out by now. My son and daughter and their holiday chum, Elfis, greet me with smiling faces as I step through the door. Suspicion creeps in. I eye them all carefully, wondering what new craft or holiday tradition awaits me.

“There you are, Mother. I have the bestest news for you.”

“Oh?”

“You’ve been invited…” he squeals with delight and begins jumping up and down.

The kids join him. I wonder if they are in on the secret or just picked up on his enthusiasm. Either way, three tiny people jumping up and down somehow has me feeling seasick. I take a seat on the nearest chair and wait for them to calm down.

“We’ve all been invited…” my son adds to Elfis’s puzzling statement.

“To meet Santa…” my daughter continues.

“At the North Pole,” Elfis sings.

I stare at them all in shock. “Really?” Now my voice squeaks.

“Really,” Elfis assures me, “And we need to leave right now since this is the first day of the busiest month of the year.”

“But what about my husband?” I bite my lip.

“Elfira has gone to work her magic at his workplace. He’ll be there with you.” Elfis beams at me.

I stare back, mystified. He takes that as acceptance of the invitation and grabs my hand. His other hand extends to my daughter who reaches out for my son, who eyes her hand as one would a rotten fish suddenly swimming at them and scoots closer to me. I smile at him when his hand connects with mine and his fingers entwine themselves among my own. Then the world around us goes fuzzy before coalescing into the perfect holiday scene.

An immense fir tree reaches toward the cavernous ceiling of the large room in which we find ourselves. As I ponder where one would find a tree so large, I realize that actual dirt forms the floor around it. Behind the tree, an immense array of glass windows looks out on a snowy vale with more lovely evergreens. The one before me, however, outshines them all with glittering lights and old-fashioned candle sconces lighting up millions of ornaments. Toward the top of the tree, delicate hand-carved ornaments dangle from the branches, while those on the bottom depict some of my children’s favorite characters cast in plastic. I could spend all day just examining each one, but my attention quickly moves elsewhere.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! Finally, you made it back to see me,” Santa’s deep voice booms through the immense room.

I turn toward him, smiling as my heart fills with love and happiness, in short, the Christmas Spirit. “Santa!”

I am a child again not thinking as I race toward him and throw my arms around his neck. He giggles merrily and enfolds me in strong arms. The soft fur at the cuffs of his coat tickles the back of my neck as he releases the hug to grip me by the shoulders and push me back. He takes a good look at me. I hold my breath as his eyes examine my face. 

“All those teeth came back in, didn’t they, my dear? And you still have such a sweet smile,” as I beam at him, he looks past me toward my children who huddle together in awe, “And I bet you passed that smile on to these to youngsters. Come on Charles and Shirley. Don’t you want to give Santa a hug?”

He throws his arms open wide and they rush to him. As he enfolds them in his arms, he whispers to them. They whisper back and he nods, leaning back to stroke his beard as he contemplates me again.

“Yes. You have made some wonderful children. So nice to have a whole family on the nice list.”

At his words, I glance around the room, wondering where my husband is. Before I can ask, double doors open at the hands of two tiny elves. Each holds a gingerbread cookie about as tall as he is in one hand while holding the door for Mrs. Claus, my husband, and Elfira, who has set aside her standard wardrobe of black for crimson red and forest green. My husband has a cookie in each hand and a delighted smile on his face.

“Honey, she made your chocolate chip cookies,” one of said cookies completely disappears into his mouth as he closes his eyes rapturously.

“Yes, dear, thank you so much for the recipe. We love them year round,” she winks at me and holds out a tray.

The children and I each grab one. As silence descends except for ravenous nibbling, Santa waves for us to come closer to him. Then he gestures for Elfis to stand at his side, which the little imp does though he looks uncomfortable at the center of things.

“As Elfis’s human family, you should be here to support him at his first big concert.” Santa’s voice booms as he gestures toward one of the banners hanging on the snow flocked walls.

I contemplate the painted rendition of my family’s elf on the shelf while my children coo in delight. Elfis hangs his head shyly as Santa claps him on the back. My husband nods politely but I can tell all of his energy focuses on savoring every morsel of cookie.

“This is a big honor, Elfis. Your concert tonight will bring the Christmas spirit and help your friends and family here at the North Pole finish the last minute preparations for bringing happiness to every child in the world—no matter how old.” He turns to me at the last few words and winks before continuing. “I wanted to make sure he shares that spirit with his human family, too. I know some of you are already feeling the holiday blues brought on by so much activity. Hopefully, this helps. That and the knowledge that each of you will have a very special gift picked especially for you by my wife and I this year.”

The kids cheer. My husband nods happily. And I lower my head to surreptitiously wipe away a tear.

“And you get to be backstage and root me on,” Elfis says, grabbing my hand and my husband’s hand and dragging us along in his wake.

I hear Santa’s laughter reverberating through the large room as my daughter grabs the hem of my shirt and runs to keep up. Soon we are situated in comfortable chairs just behind the curtain, watching Elfis perform Christmas classics in the style of the King.

He starts with “Blue Christmas” and we sway to the deep tones of his voice as his voice pours out of speakers bedecked with mistletoe throughout the candy cane colors of the immense coliseum. Tiny, squeaky voices can’t resist joining him from the audience—mine among them. 

He closes with such a moving rendition of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” complete with whole body wiggling worthy of the King of Rock and Roll that tears flow down my face, some of them for my grandmother, who adored him. Maybe, I am even beginning to appreciate his little elven double after all these years.

~~~

I spent the last month trying to tap out 50,000 words while the whole world took it upon themselves to try to distract me, so you’ll forget my mildly late post. At least I posted it on the right day, right? Hope you are gearing up for a fun but stress free holiday, dear readers.

At the North Pole [FICTION]

“Hello, mom.”

I look up to find Elfis eying my leftover turkey sandwich with wide, greedy eyes.

“I am not your mother. And do you really have to appear before December?”

“You know the children can’t wait to see me,” he glances around the room, “or maybe you don’t? Where’s the tree, mom?”

I swallow a mouthful of sandwich, “I am still eating my turkey. The tree can wait.”

“Tsk. Tsk. I think we need to work on your holiday spirit.”

I sigh and place my sandwich on the plate. “Fine.” I brush crumbs off of my hands and head toward the attic.

Twenty minutes later, I stand in the middle of the living room, surveying my Christmas decoration boxes. As I begin setting up the tree, I look up to find Elfis supervising me while nibbling on a piece of pumpkin pie. 

“You could help, you know? What brings more Christmas spirit than an elf?”

“Gotta save my energy for more important duties.”

“Like eating my food?”

“Yep.” He polishes off the pie and sticks his tongue out at me. “And reporting back to the keeper of the Naughty and Nice lists.”

I shake my head and resume turning my house into a Christmas lover’s dream.

~~

By Christmas Eve, Elfis’ influence illuminates every room. Day after day, he motivates one of the members of the household place just one more decoration. With the kids, he motivates them to make something new. Inevitably, they choose to make one more tiny rendition of Elfis to decorate our halls. Now the real elf stands in the middle of the kitchen, surveying our collaboration with bright eyes. 

“This is good work, family.” He pats my knee affectionately before hugging each child.

“Thanks, Eflis. We’re ready for Santa now.” My oldest declares.

I turn my head so they can’t see me roll my eyes. I know I will be solely responsible for cleaning up every piece of tinsel and handmade treasure and storing them all away carefully so we can overdo Christmas again next year. Elfis basks in their accolades and the soft glow of string lights for a few more minutes and then looks anxiously at his watch.

“Time to report in,” Elfis turns away from us, “One last report before Santa’s big ride.”

The kids cheer and disappear into the kitchen, arguing over which cookies Santa will want this year. Elfis’ attention remains on his watch, so he doesn’t weigh in for a change. I reach out to tap his shoulder and ask one last question, as he looks up from his watch expectantly.

The world around me wavers. My living room blurs like I am looking through mist and then disappears completely. Then I find myself in the middle of a Christmas card, complete with a very happy elf at my side.

“It worked.” Elfish exclaims happily.

“Apparently so.” I agree as I take in my new surroundings.

“Oh. You’re here?” He frowns at me.

“Uh-huh.” I agree absently.

Snow falls gently, adding to the soft white blanket already covering the gentle slopes all around. We stand outside what appears to be an enormous barn. Twinkly lights run along ever edge and every window, casting a soft glow on the stately pine trees that surround it. The soft hum of Christmas carols emanates from two immense doors. One of them opens and a small elf peeks out the door. Upon seeing us, they turn and call out something to those within the workshop. A throng of elves comes rushing out to greet us.

Warmed by the appearance of what obviously constitutes his North Pole fan club, Elfis’ face softens toward me. “Well, since you are here, let me tell you about my home.” He clears his throat and croons from deep down in his frostbitten soul. 

[to the tune of “In the Ghetto”]

“As the snow flies

On a North Pole Christmas Eve mornin'

Another perfect toy is made

At the North Pole

“(At the North Pole)

And children rejoice

'Cause new toys come to life every day

Soon enough Santa will be on his way

From the North Pole 

(From the North Pole)

“People, don't you understand

Santa needs a helping hand

To get gifts to all the boys and girls on Christmas Day

“Take a look upward with me

And you will surely see

That Santa brings joy tonight

But will this Christmas be white?

“Well, the world turns

And another elf finishes a cookie

So he can make a masterpiece toy

“At the North Pole 

(At the North Pole)

And the pride he takes

In what he creates brings toys to life

So another good child basks in Christmas light

From the North Pole

“(From the North Pole)

“That one night changes children’s hearts

Santa Claus brings joy to all

He soars so fast, he doesn’t stall

Down each chimney, and under each tree

“He leaves a sweet gift

To be found Christmas morn by each boy and girl

Who was good and kind through the whole year

From the North Pole

(From the North Pole)

“So he brings perfect gifts 

(From the North Pole)

“On a North Pole Christmas Eve mornin'

Another perfect toy is made

At the North Pole

“(At the North Pole)

“And Santa brings joy

From the North Pole 

(From the North Pole)

(From the North Pole)”

I stare, mesmerized for a second by his revision of a heartrending classic. I may have stood staring in wonder forever if another elf hadn’t rushed up to shake his hand.

“Agent Peppermint, that was fantastic.”

Spell broken I ask, “Agent Peppermint?”

“A guy can’t pick his last name,” he mutters. “Don’t mention it again.” He raises his head forcefully to give me a stern look and the loose lock of hair that dangles over his forehead jumps erratically.

“Of course,” I breathe deeply to stifle the laugh bubbling up inside.

Elfis narrows his eyes, “To anyone…or it’s the Naughty List for you forever.”

I nod silent agreement. No one wants to be on the Naughty List—no matter how old we get.

~~

I know some of you wait for more from Elfis every year, so this contribution is for you. As I wrote this one, it occurred to me this one might make a better music video than a story, but if I take up drawing and animation, I will never finish any of the items on my already bulging list of “to dos”. I have to realize at some point that I can not pursue all my interests at once. Good thing I believe in eternity, right?