Has anyone ever told you the story of the Christmas Eve Tree? It is an old, old story and can only be told to others by someone who actually saw it happen. That would be me...
Years ago, when I was just a girl, I happened to see the most amazing thing on Christmas Eve.
It was a dark and snowy Christmas Eve afternoon. I played all my usual games and listened to all my records. I helped my mom make frosted sugar cookies with my little sister. Dad was at the fireplace in the living room adding wood to the crackling fire. My brother was curled up on the couch enjoying a Christmas cookie and reading a Boy’s Life magazine.
I headed to my bedroom to make a Christmas card for the family. I was thinking about all of the Christmas photos I had clipped out of last Decembers Saturday Evening Post.
As I stepped into my room I thought I heard a tinkling sound. It was very faint but very real. I went back to the living room to see if mom was lighting the candles on the Angel Chimes that sat on our old Admiral television. She was not in the living room and the chimes had not been lit.
As I returned to my room I heard the tinkling sound again, a bit louder. I realized that it was a sound I had never heard before. It did not frighten me; it encouraged a feeling of expectation and excitement about Christmas Eve. It also left me wide-awake at midnight, thinking about what that tiny sound could possibly mean.
The rest of the household was sound asleep by then. There it was again – that tiny tinkling sound. It was coming from the living room this time. I crept out of bed and tip toed to the French glass door that separated our living room from the hallway to the bedrooms.
As I peered through the glass my breath caught in my throat. There by the Christmas tree was a menagerie of tiny baby Christmas elves. They appeared to be dropping off of the tree. As I watched I observed that they were indeed falling from their former positions on the tree. The tiny bubbles in the lights were coming to life!
But not just the bubble lights – the ornaments were also being transformed into grown up elves: mothers and fathers and grandmothers and grandfathers, all dancing near the Christmas presents and singing Christmas songs known only to them.
I also realized that Santa had not yet come to our house, so I quietly returned to my room and fell fast asleep. The Christmas tree soon looked just as it did when we went to bed.
As I slept I dreamt about what I had just witnessed. My dream revealed that the baby elves and the parents and grandparents…all return to the North Pole every Christmas Eve with Santa. Every Christmas tree, in a truly happy home, produces the new elves that help Santa make the toys for next Christmas.
Now, if you want to be the next one to see this truly awesome thing…you must be at least eleven or possibly twelve years old and not afraid of fairies and elves. Also, you must be able to keep the secret of the Christmas Eve Tree and promise not to reveal it, until you have grandchildren of your own.
(Created December 24, 2007 ... for my 11 year old granddaughter)