A few weeks ago, like every year, I went down to the basement to get the boxes of Christmas decorations.
I confess that I didn’t feel very enthusiastic, because I can’t help it, Christmas stirs up my melancholy. However, after a few sneezes, I started to take out my ornaments.
An Advent wreath with crushed bows, the old Nutcracker soldiers with broken arms and legs, the baby Jesus with a fracture on his foot.
However, in a few minutes, the magic happened, and my living room shone with the joy of Christmas.
I felt satisfied, with a feeling of mission accomplished.
Then, putting away the boxes, at the bottom of one of them appeared the elf.
He looked tired and sad. His lanky legs were thinner, his clothes worn, but most noticeably, he was missing his elf hat. I searched for it thoroughly, but I couldn’t find it.
I shook and groomed the little elf, adjusted his scarf, and placed him on top of the fireplace.
Several days passed, and I had a strange feeling, until I understood.
My house, radiant and festive, was missing something. The little elf’s gaze seemed to implore me; he needed a hat.
I proceeded to knit one for him. It didn’t take me long. There it was, white and shiny, with a few flaws that I tried to hide, but with that undefinable charm of things made with love.
My house was ready to welcome Christmas.
Next day, a mystery, the little elf was not on the fireplace
I was surprised, but then the doorbell rang. Right on the threshold of my door I discovered a bottle of wine and a card.
When I opened the envelope, there he was, a picture of my elf, with a splendid smile, wearing the imperfect hat that I knitted for him.
The card said, greetings from the North Pole and in capital letters:
CHEERS! AND MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Leonor Henríquez (Caracas, Venezuela) Civil Engineer by training (UCAB 1985), writer and apprentice poet by vocation. From her time in engineering emerged her Office Stories (1997), another way of seeing the corporate world. Her latest publications include reflections on grief, Hopecrumbs (2020) (www.hopecrumbs.com) and “The Adventures of Chispita” (2021) (www.chispita.ca) an allegory of life inside Mom’s belly.
Today she shares her “impulsive meditations” from Calgary, Canada, where she lives.
leonorcanada@gmail.com