Smarti was…disgruntled. He had been following all the rules, setting up organized, educational activities.
Leaving out healthy Christmas-themed snacks.
Keeping order in his assigned home.
He even put Harold, that irritating Giraffalope, in his place the first night. Smarti, need help? Pah!
But…Santa had pulled him aside at check-in and let him know that maybe, just perhaps, he should ‘loosen up’ a bit and ‘have some fun’. Smarti didn’t understand why Santa thought he wasn’t having fun. Of course he was having fun!
Wasn’t he?
With a heavier-than-usual sigh, Smarti turned back to perusing the bookshelf, looking for the perfect book to read to an audience of stuffed toys. He’d made the mistake of asking for advice from Nim, of all elves.
“Throw a party with all the stuffies!” Nim had said.
“Not going to happen. Much too noisy. Next?”
“Pillow fight?”
“And get feathers everywhere? Next!”
“Marshmallow forts?”
“Hm. Maybe….but, no. The potential for a sticky mess is just too high.”
“Fine!” Nim finally huffed. “Just line ‘em all up and read them a story then!”
“Now that’s an excellent idea, Nim!” Smarti smiled at Nim who threw his hands up in disgust.
And so, he’d taken Nim’s advice and decided a storytime activity with all the stuffies was the least…disruptive of the activities.
“Ooo,” whispered Harold. “Eric doesn’t like that one.”
Smarti rolled his eyes. “Oh. You…again.”
“He does like this one though.” Harold held up a copy of Harold and the Purple Crayon.
Smarti raised a brow. “What a coincidence.”
Harold smiled sheepishly. “Well, he does.”
“Fine, we’ll read Harold and the Purple Crayon.”
Harold the Giraffalope jumped up and down. “And I’ll act it out while you read!”
Smarti rolled his eyes. Again. “Whatever, just do try and be quiet.”
Smarti settled in front of his captive audience and started to read the story of Harold and his purple crayon. The Giraffalope shrugged, grabbed a purple marker, and acted out each and every page.
Later, as he was writing another rule in The Book, Smarti realized his mistake was in assuming that Harold the Giraffalope would know better than to draw all over the floors and walls.
“Do not write, draw, scribble, sketch, or otherwise mark up floors and walls!”
“Oh that was so much fun!” squealed Lil. “My girls absolutely adored the hot cocoa bar!”
“My kid was unimpressed,” grumbled Smarti.
“Maybe it was because you set up an oatmeal bar,” giggled Pepper. “Not nearly as fun as chocolate.”
Smarti huffed. “Oatmeal is a much healthier option.”
“Mine built a snowman out of marshmallows,” said Flaky.
Nim remained quiet, unsure how to tell Santa about the mess he, and Leonard, had made. Should he tell Santa about Leonard at all? Was help allowed?
“Nim?” questioned Santa with a smile. “How did you do?”
“Oh, well…my kids were delighted with the hot cocoa…mess.”
“Mess?” asked Santa.
“Er, yes. You see, Leon–I mean I may have mixed up a few ingredients and made a bit of a jumble.”
Santa chortled. “Well, it’s the first night. There are bound to be a few messes here and there. I’m sure tonight will go much better.”
The others patted Nim on the back sympathetically, making him feel even worse about how his first night had gone.
“Cheer up, Nim,” said Pepper. “Tonight’s a clean plate with no crumbs.”
Nim smiled weakly.
***
Lil tiptoed into her house and peeked around the living room. Toys littered the floor, but all was quiet.
“Mildred?” Lil whispered into the darkness. “Are you here?”
“RIGHT HERE!”
Lil jumped a foot in the air when a small green Giraffalope tapped her on the shoulder.
“Oh, did I frighten you?”
“Frighten me?? You scared the sugar plums out of me!”
“Oops!” Mildred giggled.
Lil smiled, catching her breath and gazing around the room. “I had planned a big baking day for tomorrow, but I heard the girls’ mom say there was an inspector coming to the daycare and I don’t want to risk making a mess. Not that I would make a mess of course.”
“Of course not!” said Mildred with a wink. “So what are you thinking?”
“Well, I thought maybe we could help by finishing up the tree decorations.”
“Great idea!”
Mildred and Lil zipped over to the Christmas tree. A few boxes lay open on the floor with decorations that had not yet been put on the tree.
“Ok!” began Lil. “First, let’s get the rest of these ornaments on.”
They worked together to put the remaining bells and balls haphazardly on the tree, then stood back to admire their handiwork.
“Something is missing,” said Lil.
Mildred pointed at a pile of tinsel under the tree. “What about that?”
Lil grinned. “Perfect!”
She flew to the pile of tinsel and grabbed one end, then zoomed to the top of the tree and started wrapping. She flew around and around, twisting the tinsel over the branches until she landed with a ‘thump!’ on the floor.
“Beautiful!” said Mildred in awe.
“Whew!” said Lil. “All that spinning was so much fun!”
Mildred grinned. “Wanna spin some more?”
“Oh I don’t th–.”
Before Lil could blink, Mildred had grabbed her and thrown her onto a sit and spin near the toy room. Without a pause, she began spinning and spinning and SPINNING Lil on the toy.
“Mildred! Please stop!”
Taking Lil at her word, Mildred, with the strength of a full grown Giraffalope, stopped the sit and spin sending Lil careering into the Christmas tree. Ornaments exploded off the tree and tinsel flew everywhere
Lil caught her breath and clambered out of a pile of tinsel, surveying the damage.
“Oops,” said Mildred with a frown.
Lil sighed. I guess I have my first entry in the book.
“Use toys carefully—especially near fragile decorations!”
“OW!” whisper-shouted Nim as he hopped on one foot wincing at the sharp pain shooting through his toes.
Rrrrrufff!
A small dog, blonde and fluffy scrabbled in his cage, trying to find the source of the noise Nim was making.
On his tender tippy toes, Nim made his way to the kennel, shushing the pup and frantically waving his hands. “Good dog, nice dog. No need to be alarmed.”
The little dog’s tail wagged furiously and his pudgy face smiled in greeting.
“Whew!” said Nim. “Disaster averted.”
Taking a deep breath, Nim gazed around the room, taking in his surroundings. Blankets were strewn haphazardly on the couches and stuffed animals littered the floor. The home was well-lived in and cozy.
“Seems like a nice family,” he said to himself. “Now, where to set up the hot cocoa bar…”.
“Hot cocoa?”
Nim jumped straight into the air, falling back to the floor with a loud THUNK! He spun around to face a small, odd-looking, stuffed reindeer. Or, was it a giraffe? “Wh-what, er I mean who are you?”
“I’m Leonard, and as for what I am, I think that is fairly obvious.”
“Is it?” asked Nim before he could stop himself.
Leonard sighed, seemingly annoyed. “Yes. Obviously, I’m a giraffalope.”
Nim gaped at Leonard’s annoyed expression. “Oh, I’m so sor–.”
And then Leonard let loose the most delightful laugh Nim had ever heard.
“You should see your face! I’m only joking. Of course you don’t know what I am. Joe made me at a Build-a-Bear, brought me home, and named me. I’m the only one of my kind.” Leonard puffed his chest, smiling proudly.
Nim smiled. “Nice to meet you Leonard. I’m Nim.”
“Oh I know who you are,” said Leonard with a small smile.
Nim frowned. “You do?”
“Of course! San–.” Leonard stopped, eyes wide, and cleared his throat. “What’s in that bag?”
Nim gave his head a little shake, curious about the small giraffalope. “How do you know—.”
“Is that a hot chocolate bar? Can I help you set it up?”
Nim thought it over. There was nothing in The Book that prohibited outside help, but…
Sensing Nim’s hesitation, Leonard added, “I know the house pretty well, and am very familiar with the boys.”
Nim smiled. “Deal!”
Leonard quickly gave Nim a tour of the house, pointing out the boys’ rooms. Then, they got to work organizing the hot cocoa bar. Nim let Leonard take charge of the toppings, while he set to work making the chocolate. After a few hours of hard work, they stood back to look at their creation.
Nim frowned. “Er, Leonard…I don’t think this is quite right.
“What do you mean?”
Nim gazed over the scene. Sprinkles were scattered across the table, puffs of whipped cream circled the mugs and a giant pile of marshmallows was melted into an unidentifiable blob.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Nim sighed. The house was waking and they had no time to fix the mess Leonard had made.
“I guess we’ll have our first entry in The Book,” he mumbled.
“Oh? What is that?” asked Leonard.
“When creating a hot cocoa bar, don’t make a mess!”
Five elves of varying size shuffled their feet nervously as they waited in Santa’s cozy office for the man himself. Mrs. Claus, who had summoned them to this urgent meeting, smiled down at them with a twinkle in her kind eyes.
“No need to be anxious, my dears. Santa and I have a wonderful opportunity for you all.”
Santa announced his presence with a loud bang as he stomped his boots on the rug outside his office, looking a bit ruffled. “Darn that Vixen! Why he has to do his business right in the path to my office I’ll never under—oh, hello.”
Pulling himself together and leaving his soiled boots at the door, Santa padded to his desk and, with a happy sigh, sank into his overstuffed chair.
“Have you told them yet, Mrs. C.?”
“No my dear, I was waiting for you to share the good news.”
Santa smiled down happily at the 5 elves, each wearing a unique expression on their face.
Nim, taking the reindeer by the antlers, was the first to speak. “I think we are all a bit bewildered by your summons Santa, Sir. Why the secrecy?”
Lil, twisting her fingers rapidly, breathlessly blurted. “Yes Santa. We are all wondering what this could be about. I thought maybe I was in trouble for spilling the flour all over the floor, but then thought, no, Mrs. Claus would have reprimanded me rather than jumping in and making flour angels with me, so then I thought maybe we were both in trouble and so—.”
Smarti, rolling his eyes and giving Lil a stern look, interrupted. “I think what Lil is trying to say is…why the summons? Why the secrecy?”
“The winds whisper their secrets to me,” said Flaky. Smarti glared at him and rolled his eyes dramatically.
Pepper, who had been bouncing ceaselessly on her toes, jumped in. “So Santa, what is going on? Do we have a new assignment? When can we start?”
Santa and Mrs. Claus exchanged an amused look.
“Go ahead dear, as you can see they are all eager to learn about their new project.”
Santa smiled. “Well friends, Mrs. C and I are launching a new program. We’re calling it “The Elves of Christmas”. The program is meant to be a reminder to the children of the joys of the season and a break for parents during this busy time of year.”
“That’s right,” added Mrs. Claus. “After careful consideration, we have chosen you five to run our beta test.”
“You’ll experiment and get the kinks out before we roll it out to the rest of the world,” said Santa.
“How fun!” Nim smiled.
“How exciting!” Lil grinned.
Smarti remained stoic and asked, “Will there be rules?”
Flaky stared vacantly at the floor.
Pepper bounced on her toes, gleefully gabbling..
“To answer your question, Smarti,” said Mrs. Claus. “We will have a Code of Conduct to follow and will be sure to add any other rules, tips, or tricks that are likely to come up during this beta test.”
“What sort of activities?” Pepper asked Santa.
“Each night, you will go to your assigned home and set up a craft, baking activity, game, or whatever reasonable surprise your imagination comes up with.”
“Section 1, Rule 1.1 for The Book,” said Smarti. “All activities should be organized and mess-free.”
“Er, yes, Smarti,” said Mrs. Claus. “We’ll be sure to put that down, but there is a more important rule that you all must follow.”
Smarti scoffed. “More important than cleanliness?”
“Absolutely,” said Mrs. Claus. “Your charges cannot see you move and they absolutely can never, ever touch you.”
“Why?” asked Flaky.
“Because,” said Santa. “You’ll lose your magic.”
Five elves stared quietly at each other, trying to imagine a life without magic.
“Fine,” Smarti finally said. “Rule 1.1: Don’t let the kids touch you or see you move. Rule 1.2: No messes of any kind.”
“Sure.” Mrs. Claus smiled. “I’ll make sure to get that down.
“Ok crew,” boomed Santa. “If there are no more questions, it’s time for your assigned houses.”
Mrs. Claus handed each elf a folder with their charge’s name, address, and basic information.
“Wait a moment,” said Smarti. “My kid is on the naughty list? Should we really be rewarding bad behavior?”
“Part of this program is to straighten out children who have made it to The Naughty List. Since you have some experience working with rebellion, due to your time in the Toy Shop Daycare Center, we thought it was the best fit.”
“Yes, good idea.” Smarti nodded with an expression, approaching excitement, that worried Santa.
Looking at each elf in turn, Santa felt a sudden bout of nerves well up. Or, perhaps that was the 4th cup of cocoa he had at lunch.
“Ok team, time to launch the Elves of Christmas beta test!”
Memo from the Desk of Mrs. Claus TOP SECRET: SANTA’S EYES ONLY!!!
Santa, Dear,
I’ve compiled my list of potential candidates for the beta test of our new program. While there are a few…personality concerns, it is my belief that these five charming elves would be perfect candidates for the task. Or, tasks, as it were.
Do read over my recommendations during your afternoon cookie break, and we will discuss tonight while we sip our nightly mug of cider by the fire.
Candidate Dossier: Nim, Elf, 152 years old Experience: Has worked in Santa’s Workshop for 50 years. Strengths: Well-liked by his fellow Toymakers and recently promoted to Head of Wooden Toys. Loves building. Potential areas of concern: Extremely affected by sugar. Is limited to three bottles of Grade A Maple Syrup a day and ONLY 25 candy canes. Notes: Nim is easygoing and can diffuse tense situations with humor and subtle flattery. Household Assignment Recommendation: Joe and Jake
Candidate Dossier: Lil, House Elf, 131 years old Experience: Has worked in Mrs. Claus’ Bakery for 25 years. Strengths: Whiz with cookies. Constantly coming up with unique ways to create new and interesting flavors. Potential areas of concern: Tendency to overthink, especially in stressful situations. Notes: Lil is organized, fun-loving, and always ready for a laugh. Household Assignment Recommendation: Issabella and Cheyenne
Candidate Dossier: Smarti, Half-Elf, 175 years old Experience: Has worked in the Toy Shop nursery caring for the young elflings for 15 years. Strengths: Strict rule follower, no nonsense, efficient. Potential areas of concern: Smarti can come off as a bit…eager. He is stern and that can often be construed as angry. I was careful in which house I recommended as it will take a strong-willed child who is not easily…frightened. Notes: Smarti’s relationship with his father is strained. This may influence how he interacts with his assignment’s father. Recommended Household Assignment: Eric
Candidate Dossier: Flaky, Snow Elf, around 120 years old…I think Experience: Unknown. Strengths: Unknown. Potential areas of concern: We found Flaky wandering around in the ‘23 Blizzard. She was lost and confused. I am recommending this bedraggled snow elf based on a gut instinct alone. I hope I am not wrong. Notes: See above. Recommended Household Assignment: Sabine
Candidate Dossier: Pepper, Woodland Sprite, 81 years old Experience: Brand new to reindeer training. She is friendly and personable. Strengths: Enthusiasm galore. Pepper is full of energy and always ready to go, go, go. Potential areas of concern: Pepper is full of energy and always ready to go, go, go. Notes: While we don’t know much about Pepper’s background, there are rumors that she had a run-in with the Abominable Snowman and barely escaped with her life. Recommended Household Assignment: Frannie
The last of the toys were loaded into Santa’s sleigh. Jingle McStockings sat up beside him with a big smile on his old, craggy face.
“Thank you, Santa.” Jingle’s voice cracked with emotion. “You don’t know what this means to me.”
Santa nodded at the hermit and smiled down at Sparkly. “You did well, Sparkly. And I do hope you have learned a lesson in all of this.”
“Yes, sir. And really, it’s the least I could do.”
“The very least,” Figgy grumbled, still upset at her calling him ‘Piggy’.
“Anyway,” Sparkly continued, ignoring Figgy. “Thank you for allowing me to save face. I’m so sorry for…everything.”
“SPARKLY SPRINKLES!” A short, round, angry man stormed up to the elf.
“G-gilbert, sir, I-I was just coming to see you to–to tender my resignation.”
“Ha! You think I’d let you RESIGN after what you’ve done? Oh I don’t think so missy. You are needed at the Gazette. We have a new assignment for you.”
Sparkly puffed up with pride.
“Oh yes,” continued Gilbert darkly. “We have a very special assignment for you. Very special indeed!”
Sparkly gulped.
***
Sparkly Sprinkles Takes a Northward Trip
North Pole Gazette
Gilbert Gumdrop, Editor-in-Chief
After a season brimming with plot twists, mayhem, and devilish dilemmas, our erstwhile lead reporter, Sparkly Sprinkles, has been shipped off to the far reaches of the North Pole to investigate yeti sightings! Taffy Twinkles, lowly clerk turned newshound, has stepped into the role of lead reporter for all things mischief.
“I’m positively giddy to dive into the world of Mischief Makers and their whimsical antics,” exclaimed Twinkles as she stepped into her new role. “I’m a huge fan!”
Stay tuned for fun and laughter, as Taffy Twinkles unravels the uproarious antics of a mischievous quartet of elves, as they spread giggles and grins throughout the North Pole…and beyond!
Sparkly Sprinkles arrived at the North Pole, ready to confront Santa and demand answers, but as she entered the gates, she knew something was wrong.
To her horror, she found Santa’s workshop in disarray—toys broken, decorations scattered, and the four elves and reindeer she’d been hunting, staring mournfully at what was left of the workshop.
“You!” Glitter exclaimed, her voice a mix of anger and disappointment. The other Mischief Makers shot accusing glances at Sparkly.
Figgy scowled, “What have you done?”
Sparkly winced at the accusatory tone. “Me? Wh-what are you talking about?”o
Nim shook his head in disbelief. “This is beyond mischief, Sparkly. You’ve ruined Christmas for everyone!”
Defensive, Sparkly retorted, “How does this have anything to do with me?”
Nim shoved a crumpled piece of paper at her. With shaking hands, she took it and read the note left by the Grinch Gang.
Dear Santa,
You can thank Sparkly Sprinkles for this mess. We overheard her yapping about confronting you and thought we’d follow her to seek revenge for kicking us out of the toymaking academy all those years ago. Bet you’re regretting that choice! Haha!
Good luck with the clean-up, big guy!
Not-so-Merry Christmas,
The Grinch Gang
P.S. Tell the Mrs. that the cookies were delicious!
“B-but I, I didn’t, how could I have known?” spluttered Sparkly.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so bent on getting the best, most sensational story, Sparkly,” shouted Lil.
“Yeah,” added Pixie. “Your ruthless, greedy ambition has ruined Christmas!”
“What in the name of peppermint happened here?” Santa’s booming voice echoed in the cold air.
Santa and Mrs. Claus stood at the workshop entrance, their expressions shifting from shock to heartbreak as they took in the scene before them. Broken toys, scattered decorations, and the once-warm workshop now stood in ruins.
Santa’s eyes narrowed as he addressed Sparkly, “What role did you play in this?”
Sparkly stammered, “I—I just wanted to write a story.”
Mrs. Claus, her eyes glistening with disappointment, spoke with a mixture of sadness and anger, “You’ve not only destroyed the workshop, but they took almost all of the cookies I made for Santa and the elves. How could you, Sparkly?”
Realizing the gravity of her actions, Sparkly’s bravado crumbled. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I—”
Santa held up his hand, silencing her. “Enough. We need to assess the damage and figure out how to salvage what’s left of Christmas.”
Head bowed, Sparkly Sprinkles stood in the midst of what was left of Santa’s Workshop. The look of disappointment on the big guy’s face was worse than she could have imagined. She knew she often got a bit carried away with her pursuit of a story, but even she was surprised at just how bad her antics had gone.
“Santa, Sir,” she began. “I am so, so very sorry for…all of this.” She gestured at the destruction of the toyshop.
“While I appreciate your apology, Sparkly, I don’t see how it will help us in our current situation. Christmas Eve is in two days and all of the toys are…well, ruined.”
“Yes, sir.” Sparkly scowled, his words chafing at her already wounded pride.
“What are we going to do, Santa?” asked Nim.
“There’s no way we can make all the toys again in time,” said Pixie with a sniffle.
“It took all year to get every toy just right,” added Lil. “And we only have two days until Christmas Eve.”
Figgy hung his head.
“Wait,” said Sparkly. “I think I may know a guy.”
Eager to salvage something out of the destruction she had caused, Sparkly told them all about Tinker Toy Town and the old hermit who lived there.
“He’s lonely,” she said. “I think if we were to reason with him and tell him of our predicament, we could convince him to help us.”
“And you think he has enough toys and gifts for all the world’s children?”
“Oh yes,” said Sparkly. “I’m positive he has enough.”
Guess what? Some nosy reporter from that North Pole rag showed up in Tinker Toy Town. She was yammering about some elves and about getting answers from Santa about some mailboxes. Whatever.
Looks like Santa’s in for some trouble. That’ll show the big man for turning us down as toymakers all those years ago! Meet me behind his workshop in two days. Bring your hammers. We’re turning toys into rubble!
And, hey, let’s make a pit stop in Mrs. Claus’ kitchen while we’re at it. I heard she’s got Santa’s special-recipe cookies stashed away – you know, the ones he loves. A little snack to sweeten our revenge!
Sparkly trudged through thick, wet snow that turned to brown, slushy mud. She grumbled and groaned the whole way and by the time she reached a small town at the base of a tall mountain, she was thoroughly annoyed.
Wiping mud off her shoes, a futile task, Sparkly looked up at a rusty old sign swinging in the wind.
“Tinker Toy Town,” she mumbled. As she gazed around the small collection of buildings that looked more like a small outpost than a town, she caught sight of a gloomy looking tavern and trudged toward the inviting warm glow of the window.
She passed lean-tos with stacks of unopened gifts piled haphazardly to the ceiling. “What in the world is going on here?” she wondered aloud. “There must be 50 or more of these lean-tos all chock full of gifts.”
A deep voice boomed from the shadows. “Might want to ask Jingle McStockings about that.”
Startled, Sparkly spun around to face a large, wart covered creature that could easily have passed for an ogre were it not for his pointed ears.
“And, who are you?”
“I’m Groucho McFrost, resident of Tinker Toy Town.”
“Sparkly Sprinkles, lead reporter of the North Pole Gazette.”
“Reporter, eh? If it’s Jingle you’re after, he’ll be at the pub counting.”
“Counting?”
“Yeah, counting the gifts,” Groucho muttered. “Always counting gifts.”
With that, Groucho McFrost continued on toward the pub.
“Jingle McStockings? Groucho McFrost? What next, Stinky McPew?” Sparkly shook her head as she followed Groucho in search of Jingle McStockings.
She pulled open the pub door and entered a small room with three customers and a bartender. They all stopped talking and turned to face her as the icy gust of wind blew through the room.
“Ah,” said one of the customers. “A stranger arrives as was foretold by the spirits of the past who—.”
“Can it, Norm,” said another customer. “No one wants to hear your prophecy talk.”
Norm shrugged and turned back to his drink while the interrupting customer faced Sparkly and stared at her with suspicion. “Well? What do you want?”
Taken aback by his rude tone, but in no mood to pacify the man, Sparkly matched his tone. “I’m looking for three elves and a reindeer. Have you seen them?”
“No.”
“Ok,“ she said, undeterred. “Then what about Jingle McStockings. Have you seen him?”
“That recluse? He’s in the back room. Probably counting the presents again.” Rolling his eyes, the rude customer jerked his head toward the back of the pub and returned to his drink.
Sparkly headed toward the back , spying a small jolly looking man, pouring over what looked like a very long list.
“8 million and one, 8 million and two, 8 million and 3–”.
“Excuse me,” Sparkly interrupted, intrigued. “I’m Sparkly Sprinkles and I was wondering…well, are you Jingle McStockings?”
Jingle started, peering up at Sparkly with fear, or apprehension. “I am. Who wants to know?”
Sensing this man was not the trusting sort, Sparkly spoke in a gentle, friendly tone. “Well, I’m Sparkly Sprinkles and I’m looking for–.”
“I heard you ask Pete, but I haven’t seen any elves or reindeer. You’re the first stranger to come our way in a long while.”
Jingle tapped his fingers impatiently on his list.
“What is that?” asked Sparkly, curious.
At the note of interest in Sparkly’s tone, Jingle brightened immediately. “It’s my list.”
“List? Like Santa’s list?”
“Oh no. No, no, no, I would never presume to have a list like Santa’s. This is my list of presents I’ve collected over the years. Presents that have fallen from the sky.”
Presents from the sky? Was this elf serious? But then she remembered all the piles and piles of gifts she’d passed on her way to the pub. All still wrapped and waiting to be opened.
“How long have you been collecting these presents?”
“Oh, let’s see…years I suppose. Years and years.”
“And you’ve never opened them? Not even one?”
“Not even one,” he said with a small sad smile. “You see, a long, long time ago, when I was a wee elf, I’d written a letter to Santa asking for a gift I wanted more than anything. Christmas morning came, and they gift I’d asked for never came. I’m embarrassed to admit, I started to doubt that Santa was…real.” The last bit came out in a whisper.
“And now, you do believe?”
“Oh yes! You see, when the first gift fell from the sky, I just knew it was Santa trying to tell me he hadn’t forgotten about me afterall.”
“But, why didn’t you open it?”
“Well, the anticipation I suppose.”
Nonplussed, Sparkly stared in confusion at the little elf.
“Wondering what is inside, the excitement of it, that’s the real gift Santa has given me. I have my excitement for Christmas back and so I cherish each gift for that reason.”
Sparkly, the ruthless reporter she was, saw the potential news value in Jingle’s tale.
But, something in the small elf’s expression told her that if she were to pursue this story, he would never recover from all the publicity. An unfamiliar and uncomfortable twinge of sympathy hit Sparkly as she sensed Jingles’ vulnerability.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you find your friends,” continued Jingle, oblivious to Sparkly’s discomfort.
“Yes, well. I don’t know if I would call them friends, but I do need to find them,” she said distractedly.
“Are they in some kind of trouble?” Jingle asked with a worried frown.
“Oh are they ever,” said Sparkly. She paced back and forth a few times, contemplating her next move.
“Right,” she said. “I’m going back to the North Pole, straight to Santa’s Workshop. If I can’t find the elves, I’ll question the big guy until he breaks.”
Jingle’s eyes widened and he scooted away from the intense elf.
With a determined glint in her eyes, Sparkly abruptly left the pub, making a mental note to come back someday and tell Jingle’s story. Nodding at Groucho as she passed through the bar, Sparkly stepped out into the cold and wind, and marched toward home with purpose gleaming in her eyes.
a pinch of homestead 