Little Elf Learns the True Meaning of Christmas: A Book of Short Stories

By Marvin D. Pipher

Neen, dubbed Little Elf because of her small stature, had worked all year on one of Santa's assembly lines, wrapping dolls for delivery on Christmas Eve, and she was proud of what she had accomplished. But something puzzled her. Why, she wondered, did Santa's elves work so long and so hard, without complaint, just to make the world's children happy on one day of the year? It didn't make any sense to her. What is so special about that day? She'd asked just about everyone she knew, but no one seemed to know or, if they knew, they wouldn't tell her.

Finally, on Christmas Eve, curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to find out for herself. She knew she didn't have the nerve to ask Santa Clause a big question like that. So she waited until Santa's sleigh was fully loaded and then stowed away, hoping to find out what Santa was up to and why he did it.

That led to a harrowing flight, at the end of which she hadn't learned a thing. Her quest was almost over, and her hopes were fading when fate stepped in and turned her world upside down. It was then that through skill and daring she finally learned the true meaning of Christmas. The question was: Now that she knew, how could she get home because Santa Claus and his sleigh had left without her?

The six curious stories in part two tell us the author's truths about Cinderella, Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Little Red Riding Hood, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and Old King Cole. Some of these stories, although interesting, may be too shocking for little minds. But still, as parents, it's always better to know than to wonder.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887510569

Book preview

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Little Elf Learns the True Meaning of Christmas

A Book of Short Stories

Marvin D. Pipher

Copyright © 2023 by Marvin D. Pipher

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Introduction

The Rest of the Story

The Great Escape

The Truth Be Told

Going Full Circle

The Long and the Short of It

Neveria Get Its Queen

Other Books by This Author

From Darkness to Light: The Strange Life of Marty Wilkins

Stars at War: Athletes and Entertainers in America’s Wars

For those who long for a story that spans the chasm between the true meaning of Christmas and today’s Christmas of commercialization, cartoons, and gift getting.

For, yes, Virginia, there is a Lord and Savior, and this is our day of remembrance.

Little Elf Learns the True Meaning of Christmas

Chapter 1

It was an exciting time to be an elf in Santa’s Village. At least Little Elf thought so. All her life she’d heard stories of Santa’s midnight rides on Christmas Eve and about the joy they always brought to the world’s children on Christmas Day. Now, having gift wrapped an entire year’s list of Darling Daisies, the toddler dolls that open their eyes when picked up, breathe, blink their eyes, sigh when you squeeze them, and almost look as if they could walk and talk, she truly felt she was, at last, a part of it. Santa had even checked his list against her list twice to make sure they hadn’t missed anyone. It was the first year they had made dolls that big, and Little Elf was proud that she was the first to get to wrap them.

At first it had been hard work, wrapping boxes even bigger than she was. But when Santa saw her struggling, he just patted her on the head and said, There, there, Neen, just keep trying, and you’ll soon get the hang of it. Then he laughed that big laugh of his, Ho, Ho, Ho. And he was right. Before long her hands were moving with skillful ease that belied her tender age, and soon she was the marvel of the workshop and the best gift wrapper on any of the assembly lines.

When Santa praised her in front of her team, the other elves even stopped teasing her about her button nose and almost too-round ears, which they said looked more like those of the dolls she was wrapping than any elf they’d ever seen, but they still called her Little Elf because she was the smallest elf on the line. She’d done a good job, and she knew it, and that should have been enough. But somehow, instead of feeling happy on Christmas Eve, she felt sad. What was it, she wondered, that could make her feel so sad at such a happy time of the year?

She thought it might be because her work was done, and now she felt the emptiness of having nothing to do. According to what the more experienced elves had said, the toy factory was going to be shut down for retooling for at least a month, and they wouldn’t begin wrapping presents for next year for at least a month after that. Young as she was, that seemed an eternity to Little Elf, as if the bottom had dropped out of her world. There was nothing to do and nothing to look forward to.

Then she got to thinking and realized what it really was. For a long time, she had been wondering why the elves had to work so hard for so long just to make children happy on one day of the year. What is so special about that day? she wondered. Somehow, it didn’t make any sense.

She’d asked her mother more than once and her father too and even some of the elves on the line, but no one would tell her the answer. Some simply said, That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s the way it is. Others said they did it for Santa Claus because he was such a jolly old gent, and they loved him so much. Still, others said, Don’t worry about it now, Little Elf. Someday you’ll understand. Little Elf began to wonder if anybody really knew the answer. They didn’t seem to.

She stood there in the workshop with her nose pressed tightly against the windowpane watching the long procession of elves as they loaded Santa’s sleigh, just as they had done for as far back as her little mind could remember. The elves in one column were struggling up the hill loaded down with brightly colored presents of all shapes and sizes with big bows on them while those in the other line were scrambling down for more in a seemingly endless parade. They’d been at it all day as they had been for almost a month now. Light snow was falling, and the evening air was getting brisk and cold, but time was short, and the sleigh had to be loaded soon. So they labored on.

Once in a while Little Elf would recognize a package that she had wrapped, and her heart would swell with pride as she smiled inwardly to herself, knowing that she had helped to make some little child, somewhere, happy on Christmas Day. But still, she didn’t know why. Every now and then the window would fog up, and she’d have to rub a new circle with the palm of her hand so she could see out.

As Little Elf hurried home that night, her mind was swirling with thoughts and questions, but her heart still swelled with pride at what she had accomplished. The house was dark and quiet when she got there. Her father was in the living room trying to fix a broken music box. Her mother was washing the dishes, and her brother, Raimee, was upstairs in his room.

Little Elf walked into the living room and stood there with her hands on her hips. It was a small room with a couch along one wall and two chairs along another. A fire was crackling and popping in the fireplace, and her dad was leaning over a small table with his back to her. Pops, she asked with a wrinkled brow and a pout on her lips, why do we work so hard to make children happy on Christmas Day?

Don’t you fret about that, her father replied, not even bothering to look around. I’m sure you’ll learn that when the time comes. He picked up his pipe and stuck it in his mouth, and soon the sweet scent of her father’s pipe began to fill the air.

Fortunately for Little Elf, her father didn’t see her stomp her foot in exasperation as she turned and headed for the kitchen. Moms, she asked, why do we work so hard all year just to make the children happy on Christmas Day? Tarkle says it’s because it’s always been that way, and Raimee says it’s just ‘because’.

I think that’s a question you should ask your father, her mother replied as she set the last dish in the cupboard, hung up the dish towel to dry, and began removing her apron.

Little Elf scooted under the kitchen table and sat there with her knees spread apart and her ankles crossed, her elbows resting on her knees, and her chin on her fists, trying to figure it out. Either everybody knew and wouldn’t tell. Or nobody knew, and everyone was ashamed to admit it. Whatever it was, she decided she was going to find out.

Chapter 2

Little Elf sat there for the longest time thinking about it. But still, she couldn’t figure it out. It just didn’t make any sense. Her mother had long since removed herself to the living room, where she was sitting on the sofa knitting a bright red-and-green sweater, small enough to be for Little Elf herself. Little Elf’s father was still hunched over the table at the far end of the room but was now fussing and grumbling since he hadn’t been able to fix the broken music box.

Little Elf pushed one of the chairs aside and scooted out from under the table, then stretched her legs to get the blood flowing and tiptoed up the stairs to Raimee’s room. Her mother glanced up but didn’t say anything. Raimee’s room was much like Little Elf’s, quite small, with a bed to match, a single bedstand and lamp, and one chair. It was painted powder blue and trimmed in pink. Little Elf’s room, of course, was painted pink and trimmed in powder blue. On one wall, in Raimee’s room, was a picture of Santa Claus, and a cross hung over the head of his bed. Little Elf knew about Santa Claus, but no one had ever explained why the cross was there. All Little Elf knew was that it had been in the family for years and years, but for some reason she thought it looked good there.

The big difference between their rooms was that being older, Raimee got the room with the best view. His room looked right out on the hill where the reindeer grazed and where Santa’s sleigh took off on Christmas Eve. Little Elf’s room looked out on the back of Santa’s Workshop where they dumped the scrap parts and broken toys.

Little Elf tapped lightly on Raimee’s open door and walked over to the window. It was fogged up, so she rubbed a circle and peered out. The view from there was even better than it was from the workshop, so she stopped for a moment to take it all in. Then she had a strange thought that she had never had before. She’d watched the line of elves loading Santa’s sleigh all day, but from here it looked like the sleigh was empty except for a big red bag right behind Santa’s seat. She puzzled over it for a while, for that didn’t make any sense either. But her little mind couldn’t grasp it.

She concluded, however, that the work must be almost done because fewer and fewer elves were trudging up the hill, and some seemed to be wending their way home.

Finally, turning to Raimee, who was sitting on his bed reading a book and giving him her most serious look, she asked, Tell me, Raimee, do you know why we work so hard just to make the children happy, or don’t you? She cocked her tousled head to one side, pursed her lips, and waited for his reply.

It was a long time in coming, but finally, he said hesitantly as if he wasn’t sure of what he was about to say, I’m sorry, Neen, but I’m just as much in the dark as you are. He sounded a little sad and uncertain as his voice trailed off.

Does it seem to you that maybe nobody knows? Little Elf responded. It doesn’t seem like they do.

I don’t know, Raimee replied, but I’m sure Santa must know. And if you really want to know, why don’t you go and ask him or, better yet—he paused momentarily chuckling softly to himself with a mischievous grin—"why don’t you just ride along on his sleigh tonight and see what he does? Maybe you can figure it out."

Little Elf knew she didn’t have enough nerve to ask Santa a big question like that, but she thought, What if I do go along? Maybe I can find the answer out myself… Hmm.

She watched the last few elves as they struggled to the sleigh as she considered what to do. Finally, she turned to Raimee who was still seated on his bed. Can you keep a secret? she asked, all of a sudden brightening up and becoming more animated.

Sure. I can keep a secret, came the quick response.

"Can you keep a really big secret?"

I can keep any secret you can think up.

Well, she asked still again, "will you keep a really, really big secret if I tell it to you?"

Sure, he agreed, but I can’t imagine you having a great big secret anyway.

Cross your heart and hope to die?

Knock it off. I said yes!

Okay, Smarty Pants, Little Elf went on, but you better not tell anybody. I’m going to ride along with Santa tonight and see what he does.

Ha! Raimee laughed. What makes you think Santa would take you along? No one ever rides along on Christmas Eve.

Well, Smarty Pants, she confided, I’m not going to ask him. I’m just going to go. And you’d better not tell.

With that, she spun on her heels and stormed out of the room. Raimee just sat there in stunned silence wondering what he’d gotten himself into this time. He heard the door downstairs open and then close.

Chapter 3

Most of the elves had made their way home by the time Little Elf arrived at the warehouse where Santa’s toys were stored till Christmas Eve, and only a few presents remained to be moved to the sleigh. She waited and watched from the shadows until only one gift was left. Then she hurried over, picked it up, and joined the line heading out the door. The package was about Little Elf’s size but a bit bigger. She’d wrapped a lot of those. It was wrapped in bright red-and-green paper, tied with gold ribbon, and topped wit h a bright golden bow. Little Elf recognized it as one of the Darling Daisy dolls she had wrapped not long ago. The tag on the package read, To Annabelle, From Santa Claus.

Soon, she was struggling up the snow-covered hill toward the sleigh, slipping and sliding on the well-beaten path where so many elves had recently trod, but making good progress. She was at the very end of the line just where she hoped to be, and no one seemed to notice that she was too small to be there in the first place. No one, that is, except for Raimee who swallowed hard as he peered through a small circle wiped in his bedroom window and wondered, Should I tell Moms and Pops? But he knew he couldn’t. After all, he had promised, and a promise is a promise. And he really didn’t want to