Greetings from the North Pole, Part XIV

Christmas 2016

My dearest children,

Joy and Peace to you on the Feast of the Incarnation! It is a Wonder that, in a world of glitz and gadgets, a lone candle burning bright can still draw our gaze, and the mystery of the Babe in the Manger can still make the most restless heart skip a beat. Such is the power of Our Lord, which exceeds even St. Nick’s.

And what Child is this, whose curiosity about All Things Christmas has yielded not one, not two, but four Questions this year—and two of which I’ve never answered before for your family! Lovely Miss Lily, you have at last arrived at the age at which the Magic of the Season bubbles over and colors everything it touches a bright red and deep green. I shall do my best to answer, and may Santa find no fault in my explanations.

You only actually wrote down two of your questions, and the first is the hardest: Does Rudolph really guide Santa’s sled? Your Dad believed so when he was young and was almost ready to come to blows over this question, so I do not take it lightly! But you should know that parts of this Tale are debated even here at the North Pole!

The short answer is No: the young buck called Rudolf (technically a bull, not a buck) lived many years ago, but has long since died and gone back to grass. He would be an Old Deer, indeed, were he still pulling the sleigh today! Others have since taken his place, as they have for Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, et al—but all of this, of course, is lost to your world in the Timelessness of Christmas!

Was there ever a Rudolf? Certainly!—and all elves agree that one dismal, damp, and gray Christmas Eve long ago, when visibility was almost zero and navigation nearly impossible, this particular reindeer manifested a peculiar light from his snout, which pierced the gloom so that the other Reindeer and the Man in Red could find their way. Being quite young and not full-grown, he was not among the Eight planned to pull that night, but was added at the front by our harness-maker, Theodore Doubletree, who had his work cut out for him making a collar and harness on short notice. (Hence the shorter spelling of Rudolf, with an F instead of a PH—no one had ever written the name until old Tuggs hurriedly stamped it in leather!)

But according to Rangifer Deervermer, Santa’s original herdmaster, he was not an outcast as the Song and Film suggest. He was indeed the most playful of reindeer—strangely fond of games, in fact—and as a young deer would chase and kick a red ball all around the yard and encourage the other reindeer calves to do the same! And he was always drawn to light—Christmas lights, lanterns, candle-light, fire—you name it, he was there at a run. So it made sense that, when this sort of Miracle was needed, Rudolf would be the one to deliver!

This story might raise a final question: was he born with a glowing red nose? This, my dear children, I cannot answer precisely. Some say his nose always glowed—they swear to have seen it!—while others claim it was the work of the Miracle Corps on that particular Christmas. Old Jiffy (Rangifer, that is) won’t say, and neither will Buoyancy Castor, whose incantations are responsible for getting our reindeer off the ground. Both wisely say that there is no explaining Miracles, or they wouldn’t be Miracles!—and both hint that if a glowing nose is needed, whether to help Kris Kringle see or to help a child believe—it will be provided. So if you see a red glow in the sky some Christmas Eve, it may well be your very own Rudolf, come to visit!

Onward, then! Your second question, Miss Lillian, was, Does Santa have a telephone? In a word, no—at least, not one he regularly uses or that children like yourself may call. However, there are many phone lines (like the one you’ve no doubt heard about on your Father’s radio) by which we elves and Father Christmas gather information about the wants and needs of children like Yourself—so phone calls to our many “Santas” in your world certainly help the real Gift-Bringer know what to bring!

Your final two questions, Little One, were spoken, not written—and have been answered by me in past letters. You asked how Santa gets into people’s houses, and how we know what your Questions are. I will give you the quick answers, and leave the longer explanations for Master Brendan to look up in past letters. St. Nicholas goes where he wills, in whatever form is required: a tall and saintly bishop, a plump and fur-clad toymaker, a wisp of Christmas Spirit swirling on a winter breeze. Doors and locks are no obstacle for him—a chimney, a vent, or even a keyhole is as good as a doorway if he wishes to enter! And Santa has an entire Corps of elfin Watchers, whose sole job is to keep an eye on children and families and track their behavior, questions, and needs. They never miss a trick, those Watchers, so always be on your Best Behavior!

And you have! Once again, the entire Thorp Gang has been nothing short of a Joy and Pleasure to behold this year—oh, each of you have had your Moments when the sweetness of Life seems sour and you spit it back at each other or your Parents. But you are only Human, after all, and even we Elves bicker at times! Master B, it is as your Father says: the University in Bismarck is magnifying the best in you, and diminishing the worst. Let Monsignor and Company continue their work! Master Gabriel, know that Fr. Lamplighter and all the Sisters of Our Lady of Perpetual Winter are praying for your vocation, whether priest or husband—and asked me remind you that God wills only the Good for you. (Remember that, when young Master Trevor passes you in height!) Miss Emma and Master T: do continue to make Music and raise a Joyful Noise unto the Lord—I have no doubt He loves it, as do we Elves, when we tune in!—and continue to spread joy and laughter wherever you go. Both are in short supply in this tilted World!

Finally, Miss Lillian: thank you, Dear One, for sharing your tremendous Christmas Spirit with those around you—both as a five-year-old Lover of Santa and Presents and as the Virgin Mary in your Christmas Play the other night. Always remember that even St. Nicholas kneels before the Babe in the Manger—this Great Day marks the birth of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and no gift is greater than He!

Merry Christmas, my friends, and a very Happy New Year!

Yours Still and Always,

Quill

The Terrible Caribou Flu Is Available Now!

Amazon delivered early! Siberius Quill Presents: The Terrible Caribou Flu is now available for as an e-Book for Kindle—just in time for Christmas. It tells the story first outlined by Quill in a letter to my children back in 2009, of a Christmas that almost wasn't, and two unlikely animals that may have replaced the reindeer had they not been cured in time!

This our first venture into self-publishing and was finished very quickly on Christmas Eve Day, so if you see any errors or run into any problems, please let us know. 

And yes, the price is higher than expected, but the proceeds will be going to our local St. Vincent de Paul chapter. Merry Christmas, all!

It's Done! (But Not Quite Ready...)

Siberius Quill Presents: The Terrible Caribou Flu has been published as a Kindle book to Amazon.com! Unfortunately—as this is an experiment—we've learned two things we had not expected:

1. It can take up to 72 hours for the story to be reviewed and actually appear on Amazon. Quill and I will let you know the moment it appears!
2. For best visibility (and for any sort of reasonable royalty from Amazon), we need to sell this story for $2.99. Since this is more than we anticipated charging, we have decided that any proceeds will go to charity.

As a reward for your patience, Quill said I could share with you his original cover art. Quill admits he is not an artist, but it captures a bit of the story beautifully!

(And if all goes as it has for the past 13 years, we'll have a letter to share tomorrow!)

Update on the Eve of Christmas Eve

Well, dear Readers, I have done what I could, and the Story is in Master Thorp's hands now. I must admit, the Tale grew long and complicated in the telling, and I pray he will be able to mold it into Something Reasonable. I have little doubt it will be ready for you to Read and Enjoy soon, and I sincerely Hope you do!

Now, as this is my Very Busiest time of year, I must return to my correspondence. Christmas comes, and quickly!

Yours Still and Always,

Quill

Answers to Questions...

Master Quill's post after Thanksgiving raised a few questions we thought I should answer here.

• When and where will the full-length story "The Terrible Caribou Flu" be available? We will be publishing it on Amazon for Kindle—our goal is by Christmas Eve.
• How much will it cost? Not free, but not much. Quill's goal is to get these stories out, and the reality is that free books and stories draw far less attention than those that cost even a little. Plus he insists I get something for my time, and I'd rather not draw from Santa's reserves!
• Will we be able to purchase a hard copy of the story? At this time, no. I have no way of creating one myself, and Quill has only been allotted so much time away from his "day job" to produce these stories—and none with the Bookbindery!
• What about your family's letters? Will those be available? They already are, on this site! But as a bound volume? Maybe someday, but not yet.
• Quill has answered lots of questions about Santa and the North Pole—any thoughts about creating a Q&A here on this site for families with similar questions? That's a great idea! If the story progresses well in the next week or so, I'll try to pull that together.

If you have other ideas for this site, or other questions about the story, let me know in a comment below!

A Glimpse at the Work In Progess!

Dear Reader: What follows is a Sneak Peek at the tale we are working up for you this Holiday Season! It is the story of a Christmas that Almost Wasn't—when most of the reindeer came down with Caribou Flu and no one knew how the Old Man's sleigh would take to the skies. We had hoped to have it done today, but Time has conspired against us. With the prayers of the Good Sisters of Our Lady of Perpetual Winter, we'll have an e-story by Christmas!

Read on, and wet your whistle—much more will be coming soon!

Yours truly,

Siberius Quill

* * * * *

In a snug room in the back corner of the barn and stables, Hiram Deervermer slept soundly, his snores rattling the latch of the heavy plank door. Old Hitch, as he was known among his friends and family, had been chief herdsman and head of the Stable Corps for long years now, since the retirement of his great-grandfather Rangifer, and had lived at the stables since the untimely passing of his wife, Cervidia. He was stout for an elf, nearly as wide as he was tall, balding and beardless, but with magnificent black mutton-chops on both cheeks, and the same sparkling blue eyes of his sister’s sons.

Silas rapped on the thick door with his knuckles and called out, “Uncle Hiram?” A snore shook the door in reply.

He knocked again and called louder: “Uncle Hiram!” No response at all. He banged the door with the side of his fist. “Hey! Uncle Hiram! Wake up!”

From behind the door, Silas heard a grumble and the groan of old bedsprings, then silence. “Uncle Hiram?” he called. A snore like the snarl of a wolverine was followed by the deep and peaceful breaths of slumber.

“HITCH DEERVERMER!” shouted Silas, pounding with all his might. “AY! HITCH! RISE AND SHINE!”

“Antlers in velvet!” cried the old elf. “At this black hour? Who pummels my door?”

“Your nephew, Uncle,” said Silas, grinning at his uncle’s grouchiness. “And all hours are black this time of year. It’s time for the morning feeding, and most of the herd is sick. Come quick!”

Greetings from the North Pole, Part XIII

Christmas 2015

My dearest children!

Greetings to you—and Sincere Prayers that neither this grey and muddy Winter nor the toppling of your tree as you were decorating has dampened your Christmas Spirit! Though your Father and eldest Brother had a time wrestling the Prickly Thing into a new stand, the old spruce looks Splendid and is holding its needles as well as can be expected given the Strain! Well done!

Another Christmas has arrived! It has been Quite Some Time since you Elder Children have asked a question about the Old Man—his Appearance and Ways, or How he does What he does. At long last, at the urging of your own old man, lovely Lily-bell has posed a deep question, indeed: “Why is Santa’s nose so weird?” Your Father wisely pressed her on this, thinking perhaps she thought it too Red or too Jolly, but she insisted that theinside of his nose was weird. No more would she say, and I fear that’s little to go on, though not quite Nothing. I shall make an Answer that I hope will satisfy. I have spoken to his personal Physician, Vitali Mendwell, from the elfin Hospital Corps, and verily, the inside of Kris Kringle’s nose is, in fact, strange by Mortal standards: without drip or drainage or unsightly Bogeys. Even here above the Circle, he never runs down, never catches Cold, never has so much as a sniffle—truly!

Why this is nobody knows for certain: Doc Vittles, as we call him, always credits diet; Muggsy and Froth at the Buttery says it’s his daily doses of Cocoa with cayenne and cinnamon in the morning and Peppermint Tea in the evening; and the good Sisters of Perpetual Winter insist that it’s his Jolly Sanctity—the joyous reward of a Life Well-Lived! I tend to side with the Sisters: more often than not they are right, and Sinter Klaas is a Saint, after all!

It is a Joy to watch you all continue to grow in the Virtues—Faith, Hope, and Charity—not to mention height! A towering Bunch you are, like a roving Forest to elfin eyes—and I am Blessed to be able to check in on you Now and Again. Do not forget our Correspondence, and encourage your youngest sibling in All Things Christmas: but especially the Peace that comes from Giving and Serving. Heaven awaits!

A Very Happy Christmas to you all!

Yours Still and Always,

Siberius Quill

Greetings from the North Pole, Part XII

Christmas 2014

My dearest children!

“Another turn around the Sun; another Year begun and done—just like that!” as our Head Astronomer, Nebular Farseer, would say. Just last week, he and Pendulus “Tick” Chronin were debating, over cocoa and gingersnaps, whether the years merely seem shorter or actually are. Your human Stargazers actually claim the years are lengthening by a millisecond or two each century; Tick claims we’re losing time, but Nebbs is on the fence—and each year, when the Chief Timekeeper marks the Year’s End on the Great Chronometer, Nebbs blames Tick’s itchy trigger-finger for any loss. 

Truth be told, it is conceivable that Tick’s finger is too fast. I’ve told you before that he is markedly slow for an Elf, save his eye and finger—and indeed, these traits runs in his family: his great-grandmother, Sedentary Chronin (née Scattershot), rarely left her little cottage, but was the Best Wingshot north of the Circle, and crack with a Rifle, too! Why, she was known to harvest wild Ptarmigans and snowshoe Hares out her bedroom window, then send Bob-Catchit, her half-Lynx housecat, to fetch them in for supper—truly!

So the Debate continues, year upon year, and Christmas Day has come again—a Much-Needed Feast, indeed, in this catty-whompus World! The Old Man has been jolly, as always, but has pressed us Elves most intensely this Winter—such a need there is for Peace and Goodwill as he has not seen in Many Centuries! Peace has been the particular prayer of our Good Pastor, Fr. Aloysius Lamplighter, too, this Advent, and may it resound the World ’Round. Amen!

I am, like your Dear Parents, so grateful these days for Miss Lily, who has kept your Family young and the Spirit of the Season bright in your Home. She is Spoilt, to be sure, but the Fault is no one’s—she can hardly spoil herself, and who can blame the Rest of you for falling prey to her Charms and dark eyes. Your Dad has suggested she might become a “Mary,” as she calls the good religious sisters of Your World. Whether ’tis true or not remains to be Seen, but Sr. Providence Goodpath, Director of Vocations of the Sisters of Perpetual Winter, has looked in on her and insists she will draw people to The Incarnation, regardless!

You elder four continue to persist in Goodness and grow in Virtue, year upon year; nevertheless we continue to look in on you. Master Brendan, I am struck by the Seriousness with which you are seeking your own Good Path and remind you to treat your Special Someone with the same or greater care than you show your Own Soul. Master Gabriel, I am impressed by your persistence in All you do and the Strength of your prayers, which echo both over the Earth and in Heaven, as well! For you, Miss Emma, there will always be room at the Inn, and welcome: your Music and your Baking warm the hearts around you, and your Beauty and Joy are infectious (in only the Best Way). Master Trevor, you are becoming a Fine Young Man with your own Callings and Interests. Strick Thumpertink, our Lead Percussionist, has heard you practicing—keep it up, and you’ll be welcome in our Drum Corps anytime!

Speaking of Time and the Flight of it, Marcus Milestone (Monitor’s son, who works Birthdays and other High-Sugar Special Occasions for the Watcher Corps) stopped by the Other Day to remind me on his Elder’s behalf that young Master Trevor has reached Double Digits this year—a Momentous Age, to be sure, and one I’m sure you’ll recall entails Special Responsibilities toward the Keeping of Christmas. Speak to your Father in a Quiet Moment, and he will, no doubt, explain. Marcus also noted Lily’s recent Birthday celebrations and was impressed by the Love shown by friends not her own. How kind they are to mark her Third Year in such a Splendid Fashion!

On that note: Bishop Nicholas trusts you will be Happy with your gifts this year, and gives his Blessing to you—which, from a Saint, is not Insignificant! A Very Happy Christmas to you all!

Yours Still and Always,

Siberius Quill


P.S. All of us here, but Dr. Vendy most of all, send our Condolences on the loss of your dear Schnauzer, Puck. He was the Very Definition of a Good Dog!

Greetings From the North Pole, Part XI

For several years, we received a Christmas letter from an Elfin correspondent, Siberius Quill. On Christmas 2013, we were in South Dakota and found the brief, handwritten note below. It offers us the first glimpse of Quill, as well...

It reads as follows:

Christmas 2013

My Dearest Children!

My apologies for the shortness of this message -- accidents happen, even at the North Pole! We were celebrating the Birthday of Brevity Parchment, & let's just say 1,171 candles and miles of tinsel and wrap do not mix! A more thorough update will follow soon -- look for it when you return home.

Quill


When we returned home, we found the letter below...

Christmas 2013

My dearest children!

Belated Season’s Greetings to you and your Family. Another year has come and gone in a twinkling, and I find myself writing belatedly to a brood of Thorplets (as your father would call you!) whom I scarcely recognize. How quickly the five of you are growing, and how Helpful and Wise for ones so young! We elves live for many centuries, so the Rapid Progression of humanity from Infancy to Adulthood never ceases to amaze. Scarcely do we know you, ’ere we are writing to your Children’s Children!

It is a bittersweet transition, as well, for as always I’ve watched and listened as often as I might, and not once in the Past Year have you elder four raised a Single Question about Kris Kringle, reindeer, or the Magic of the Season. Perhaps I have answered your past Questions too well, so that None remain, or perhaps your Faith is just that Strong—nevertheless, it has been with Great Joy that I’ve heard young Miss Lillian say “Santa Claus” and “Ho, ho, ho!” these past few days. My thanks to you for instilling in her the Wonder appropriate to her age at Christmas! Soon she may have questions of her own for me! 

By the time you receive this, you will have seen by your Gifts the weight of your Goodness this past year. My apologies again for the brief handwritten note on Christmas Day. (I hope the hasty self-portrait made up for it!) I promised a full account, and it follows: My maternal Grandfather, Brevity Parchment, whom I mentioned in my very first letter to your family, celebrated his eleven-hundred-and-seventy-first birthday on December the 23rd—an unusual milestone, to be sure, being neither a nice Round Number of decades or centuries, nor abnormally Old for most Elfin families. In the case of the Parchments, however, “Brevity” is more than just a name—Papa is the seventh Brevity in the line, all of whom have worked in Tags and Greetings, and all of whom have passed to the Next Life all of a Sudden when aged 1,170 years. (This is no sad thing; we Elves know well that this current Life, however long, is merely a Stepping Stone to a more wondrous world, so we have none of the Dread that accompanies the thought among so many of Your Kind!)

So on the Eve of the 22nd, as our seventh Brevity was about to outlast his elder Namesakes, we threw a tremendous Birthday Party. All the Elves from all the Divisions were there, with the Elfin Choir and the Sisters of Our Lady of Perpetual Winter leading our favorite Songs and Carols, and a cake baked by the Mrs. Claus herself. And such a cake! The only place with tables enough to support so many acres of fresh-baked Sweetness was the Wrapping Gallery, and then, only with all the paper pushed to the sides and all Tables pushed together at the center! The young Chief Engineer of our North Pole Lighting Corps, Wick Talloswerth, conspired to ignite simultaneously 1,171 birthday candles stuck at intervals across the Massive Expanse of frosting. It was an audacious attempt and worked flawlessly—for a long moment, Papa Parchment’s kindly old eyes shone with the light of a Thousand and More candles gleaming just for him! But some of the Younger Elves had filled Countless Containers with confetti and tinsel and balanced them among the rafters to dump down upon the Revelers at party’s end, and the roar of Laughter than accompanied Papa’s attempts to blow out So Many Candles caused several of the buckets to toppled from their perches, and their contents to ignite! Every attempt to reach and extinguish the Fire at the center of a Roomful of Cake further shook the rafters and dislodged more of the Celebratory debris—and so the Fire spread, candle to tinsel to confetti to wrap, until the building itself ignited. By the time Reginald Meltwater, the captain of the Fire Brigade, and his men escaped the party and returned to battle the Blaze, it had spread the Mailroom, destroying Countless cards and letters.

Old Red felt badly that the Party, the Wrapping Gallery, and the Mailroom were a loss, but Papa was no worse for all the excitement of the evening, and went right to work alongside the rest. With just two days to work, we Correspondents were scrambling to get any letters out at all—but he and his best Versewrights and Calligraphers pitched in to be sure that Everyone who expected a letter received one! 

And with that, my Story and my Letter are both complete. A Very Happy Christmas to you all!

Yours Still and Always,

Quill

Greetings from the North Pole, Part X

Christmas 2012

My dearest children!

Rejoice! Christmas Day has arrived at long last—although I suspect your Loving Parents feel much as I do this year: as if Christmas Eve has approached like the Jolly Old Man himself, in sparkling silent magic, at night and unawares. For them, the Mad Rush of work, extra-curriculars, illnesses, and birthdays leading up to your trip to Michigan has made it Impossible to Think, much less to Prepare or Plan. You may have notice them moving through these last few days as in a Thick Frost (we have so little Fog up here that it is nearly impossible for an Elf to think in such terms), dazzled, dazed, and in need of the proverbial “Long Winter’s Nap.” I spoke to one of our Boosters in the Parental Relief division, Miss Conscientious Heartner, and she acknowledged that an Early Thanksgiving in the United States, followed by a foreshortened Advent and the Sleepless Nights resulting from constant flutter and song of your Baby Sister have conspired against your Mother and Father. Be gentle with them, elder Children, in all the ways little Lillian cannot!

As for me, I have less reason to have been Caught Off-Guard by Christmas—and at the same time, Significantly More. The terrible Arctic Cold Snap that has descended upon Russia in recent days spent several Long Dark Weeks building layer upon layer above us here at the North Pole. In the deepening cold and howling winds, our Shops were drifted over, making the simple act of Getting to Work an arduous chore; meanwhile, our Ptarmigan Coops blew clear of snow, leaving the nests rocky and uninsulated, so that Every Available Hand was deployed to preserving Mrs. Claus’s flock and eggs. Just as we completed a windbreak that funneled the drifting snows back into the Coop, the local fauna began to appear, seeking shelter, for they know well that the Kringles are great Friends of Beasts and will not turn away even the most couthless Norwegian rat in need. Thus we had a bit of a reindeer reunion—the Night-Flyers and their Wild-Runner cousins—plus a sleigh-house packed full
of cheerfully surly polar bears (who, though peaceful enough when the cocoa is flowing, are polar bears, after all), clever arctic foxes, and cunning white wolves curled by the fire.

By the time we had All Creatures Great and Small situated on the place and Dr. Vendy Deervermer making the rounds, it was Gaudete Sunday...and we of the Letter Corps had written nothing. We were quite at a loss for how to Catch Up, until Bounteous Chronin, (Tick’s grandson, who is built like a boulder and serves as Captain of the Continuum Guard) had a marvelous idea! Old Bounce suggested we ask we ask the Mathematimagicians for a Hall Pass into the Worm-Hole—Santa’s very own Gateway to the Space-Time Continuum. The passes were granted immediately, and we soon found ourselves writing our letters altogether outside of time, awake and inexhaustible, in parallel with our Other Selves from various Other Dimensions. We worked quick as lightning, though I will admit it is a bit disconcerting to meet one’s-self coming and going, delivering letters one is only beginning to
write, and the like. I was quite beside myself!

And long-winded, by the looks! I shall permit myself to spill onto a second page, if only to amend this account of our Long Winter with my Personal Greetings. Master Brendan, I am glad to see you upright and eating again. I know it isn’t easy to be 15 (or 150) year old and confined to bed-rest—Be Well, and stay that way, for I so enjoy watching you strive and succeed, at home and school, work and wrestling! Master Gabriel, I remain struck by your persistent Humor, Faith, and Courage in the face of a ramshackle world toward which these are the only appropriate responses. They have been in Short Supply in recent weeks! Master Trevor, you have grown much in the past year, and have become such a Bright and Helpful boy! Work hard when tasked with a chore or to-do, and you will find your focus. (Oh, yes: and Clean Your Ears!)

As for you, Miss Emma Rose, you have blossomed into quite the lovely young lady—and having reached the decade mark, you (like your Elder Brothers) have new roles to play in All Things Christmas. Have you guessed? If so, whisper it to your Mother and Father in a quiet moment sometime soon; if not, speak to them in Private upon your return to Minnesota. And one last thing: squeeze Miss Lillian for me! (Such a precious girl, and so unfiltered—has it been a year already?!)

What a ramble! Ah, well...I believe it will serve for now. A Very Happy Christmas to you all!

Yours Still and Always,
Siberius Quill

Greeting From the North Pole, Part IX

Christmas 2011

My dearest children!

Bless my soul, but you’ve thrown a wrinkle in my writing! Again, the four of you have been on Your Very Best Behavior (all in all), so I’ve had my attention elsewhere—joining the Watcher Corps to observe and encourage those Children-on-the-Cusp, who drift from Naughty to Nice and back again throughout the year and may need a Pre-Christmas Nudge to keep them aright. Our Director of Circumstance, Miss Incognita Trueheart, and her team of Elfin Infiltrators secretly arrange opportunities for these children to do what is Right and Good, free from distraction or wicked influence, and most “Cuspers” thereby prove their True Loving Natures and merit the Nice List.

But back to the point: Such is time to an elf already centuries old, and so engaged was I in the trials of my other Young Charges, that I overlooked the Blesséd Arrival of little Lillian Clara, your delightful Baby Sister! I had thus already penned my letter to Masters Brendan, Gabriel, and Trevor, and the lovely (and still special, regardless of what your Father says in jest), Miss Emma, when the Goodchild Twins burst into my room with bright grins, all a-flutter. Now, the Goodchilds (or Goodchildren, as they prefer to be known), are the daughters of Old Abacus, the Master Counter, who for long centuries stretching to millennia, has aided my forefathers on the Quill side with assembling The List for the Old Man, ensuring no one is left off! Plethora Goodchild is herself a Nursery Watcher, whose sole responsibility is to monitor the hospitals, huts, ambulances, and baby-rooms of the world—anywhere a New Someone might appear, and add the Infant’s name to our records. Oftentimes she knows Who and Where to watch, for her sister, Firtilitee, is an elfin Midwife, who aids in the Arrivals of our Own Kind and has an eye for spying Baby Bumps, even on humans. Indeed, it was Plethora and Firtilitee Goodchild who first told me of the Expectation and Loss of little Jude last autumn, and they have watched your Dear Mother with much joyful anticipation these several months! Welcome, Lily! A very Merry Christmas indeed! Santa is most pleased to have Another Reason to stop over, and I am grateful for another Wee One to bring along in the Ways of Christmas!

You Older Ones have asked no questions of me this year, though I suspect you hold some close to your Hearts. It is no Crime to doubt Father Christmas and his Ways, for he is not only Bold and Jolly, but also Cunning and Elusive as the Artic Fox which pilfers ptarmigans from our coops! When you seek him hardest he slips your grasp, only do not lose your Sense of Wonder—for it is there, in your sleeping and waking Dreams—that you will find the Saintly Old Sprite, warming his hands o’er the Fire of your Own Heart. You’ll know he is Real when you do the Hard Work he does—the work that Christ Himself assigned to each of us: loving Each Other, our Neighbors, and our Enemies. Christmas is not about Any of Us, after all—it is always about Someone Else entirely (and the Child in the Manger, of course).

Ah, but I ramble so, and have run out of paper! A Very Happy Christmas to you all!

Siberius Quill

Greetings From the North Pole, Part VIII

Christmas 2010

My dearest Children!

Another year flown by already—and as I sat down to write you this evening, the Keeper of the Birthday Calendar, Monitor Milestone, reminded me that not only do you have a Teenager in your midst, but also another child in Double Digits, as it were! We track such things carefully, because as you might guess, birthdays and other such Big Events are prime opportunities for Young Ones like yourselves to do good or ill. Happily, you all remain on the Good List again this year—believe me, not all my Families do so well!

But old Monty had a second purpose in mind with his reminder: while a decade is no time at all in the Life of an Elf, it is a Significant Step for the children of Big People and a boy’s role in the celebration of All Things Christmas. Why, it seems no time ago at all that I told Master Brendan he was of an age to take on New Responsibilities in that regard, and now Master Gabriel has joined him! As you’ve no doubt guessed, there are Things You Must Know and Thing You Must Do. In a quiet moment, talk to your Father, Master G.—he remembers his own Tenth Year well!

Master B., we’ve noticed the Shifts in your attention and interests this year from Play Things to stuff of a More Serious Nature. Though your house is not small, you are in Close Quarters with your siblings (at least one of whom is still Quite Small) so you cannot do or have everything you would like. Patience, Eldest! St. Nicholas knows your needs and has done something unusual this year—you will find somewhere in your gifts an opportunity to choose something a bit more Grown-Up. Use it wisely!

As for the lovely Emma Rose and young Master Trevor, it is a joy to watch you grow, in grace and wisdom, as well as stature. Miss Emma, your love of the Arts is apparent in all that you do! You might recall I previously mentioned our elfin Songmaster, Jovial Morales, who provides the music by which we elves do our work? His mother, Choral (who was a Longpiper before she married) has heard you with the Children’s Choir and (I hope you don’t mind!) singing about the house. For nearly a millennia she has conducted our church choir, so you can be sure she speaks the Truth: your voice is sweet and will only get sweeter. Madam Choral says keep practicing, and remember: When you sing, you Pray Twice!

As for you, Master T., as is typical for Boys Your Age (especially those with Big Brothers) you are always trying keep up. You’ll be happy with the gifts old Santa has prepared—but I urge you to Be Patient, as well. Enjoy being young, and do not rush into the games and toys of Older Kids!

Finally—and I will not dwell on Sadness, knowing you are reading this on Christmas Day, which, like no other day, must be a Time of Joy—we know of the loss your family suffered in November. Suffice it to say that our thoughts are with you. The Devout Sisters of Our Lady of Perpetual Winter have joined their prayers to yours, and I have it on good authority (theirs!) that your Dear One is in Good Hands! Master G., your idea of hanging a special stocking was a fine one, but Kris Kringle had a different idea. Each Christmas he will leave a Special Ornament to hang on your Family’s Tree, in remembrance. And this year, he has left Something Else, something from the Wood Shop—he thought it appropriate for your Back Yard, and requested Dorothea Gudwerds of the North Pole Library to track down a Special Poem by one of your Most Famous poets, Emily Dickinson (who, by her language, could have a touch of the fey and elfin in her own blood):

Hope is the thing with feathers 

That perches in the soul, 

And sings the tune—without the words, 

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; 

And sore must be the storm 

That could abash the little bird 

That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land, 

And on the strangest sea; 

Yet, never, in extremity, 

It asked a crumb of me.

Again I’ve run on and made Little Sense, it seems. But you see with the Wisdom of children—I’ve no doubt Some Sense will come of it. Travel safe, my young Friends, and a Very Happy Christmas to you all!

Yours Still and Always,

Quill

Greetings From the North Pole, Part VII

Christmas 2009 

 My dearest Children!

I must say, it has been a Most Eventful Year, both in your home and in ours! Such bustle down below (in Minnesota!), what with the Four of you now all school-age and active, and your parents rushing hither and yon to this and that engagement. Concerts, practices, games, retreats! It’s no wonder the Old Year slipped past so quickly! Does it feel that way even to Young Ones like yourselves? After centuries here in the White North, it all seems but a blink to my eye…

And my! but we have been busy here—about the same time you were enjoying Thanksgiving at the Venjohns, all our best Reindeer came down with Caribou Flu, which is not unlike your swine flu: dreadful wheezing coughs and high fevers and constant fatigue. It passed through the herd quickly, like a rumor of an Early Spring, and we wondered how we would haul the sleigh. Our elfin veterinarian, Dr. Vendy Deervermer, and the rest of the Stable Corps worked double-time to nurse them back to health (and drinking extra cocoa to ward off the flu themselves!), even as our Aeroanimage, Buoyancy Castor, struggled to find a suitable substitute, just in case. Aeroanimagery, you may know or might guess, is the magical art by which Terrestrial (that is, Earthbound) Creatures are made to fly, and old Yancy is the Best in the Business—but with the nearby caribou herds also sick, his Viable Options were limited indeed!

Only two creatures were deemed large and strong enough; the Walruses proved quite “broncy,” as your father’s friend Jinglebob might say, when airborne, and the Polar Bears—suffice it to say that it takes more than Pixie Dust to keep Ursus maritimus aloft. Plus, they eat a Great Deal and won’t touch vegetables—and very Few Homes indeed leave cold cuts or hard sausage, much less raw red meat, for Old Santa’s draft stock!

It was Touch-and-Go to the last! Fortunately, Dr. Vendy concocted a home remedy made from homemade udder balm from a moose dairy in Siberia, cooling Peppermint Paste from our own Candy Kitchens, and traditional Inuit and Eskimo medicines, then boiled in a Tea. The resulting drink, along with the prayers of the Devout Sisters of Our Lady of Perpetual Winter, seemed to move them to recovery. (That, and the Magnificent Storm predicted by old Flurious and even now snowing over you as sleep and wake—the Reindeer love nothing more that a long pull through snowy skies!)

But enough of Our Problems! You have been Good Children, one and all, again this year—and so what’s a Watcher to do but spy over your shoulder to see what Questions you might have for the Jolly Old Elf, himself, this year? We’ve done just that, so even as Father Christmas munches his cookies and smiles at Your Note, he is able to leave this letter in Timely Reply!

Miss Emma, you’ve asked about Numbers of Toys and the Time It Takes—and I trust Masters Gabriel and Trevor have similar concerns in their own Heads and Hearts. I would urge you to ask Master Brendan to share my Past Letters with you again, in which I explain more about Which Toys are Made and Which Toys are Gathered. But in truth, we still make Many Hundreds of Thousands of toys and order Countless more. We make toys year-round, and indeed deliver them secretly Whenever and Wherever they are needed—much as St. Nicholas of Myra took care of those in need centuries ago.

How long does it take? Why, it takes All the Time We Have, which is No Time at All, when you think about it. What we do isn’t Possible in any amount of time, and yet each year we get Faster! Our official Time-Keeper, Pendulus “Tick” Chronin may actually be the slowest Elf at the Pole— except for his keen eye and quick thumb, which starts and stops the Great Chronometer at the start of each Shift, and each Christmas Eve. The G.C. measures time to the Nanosecond, and we have gotten so Lively and Quick at what we do that Tick may have to be quicker still. Picoseconds! Can you imagine?

And now I read back over What I Have Written, and see that perhaps it will make Little Sense to you. Facts are more Fluid than you might think, Children, and Faith, more Solid that Stone. Believe, and Wonderous Things are Yours to behold! Travel safe, my young Friends, and a Very Happy Christmas to you all!

Yours (Truly!)

Quill

Greetings From the North Pole, Part VI

24 December 2008

My dearest Children!

My, but the World is snowy where you live—White Christmas indeed! This is the weather Father Christmas likes: the sleigh runners slick with frost, and thick powder to soften and silence the landing. Kris Kringle should make good time tonight!

You are Good Children, one and all—obedient, respectful, joy-filled, and loving. Good Eggs, your Father might say; we say Good Apples, and you stand in sharp contrast to the Bad Apples, who “spoil the whole bunch,” as they say. Oh, you have your naughty moments, as all Young People do, but these moments of mischief and misbehavior are Lessons, one and all. Your Conscience speaks the Truth—it tells you Right from Wrong—and should you fail to hear It, your parents correct you, all as it Should Be. In that, you are Very Lucky.

Young Master Trevor, your laughter and shouts while opening your Christmas Eve gifts resound clear to the Auroras! Bless my soul, but you make a Joyous Noise! And as we are not bound by Time at the Pole (our nature being magical and the Earth’s rotation here being rather instantaneous), I am able to report that your happiness rang in the ears of Santa’s reindeer and was much-loved. It sparks them the fly high and pull hard! And your singing has caught the ear of our elfin Songmaster, Jovial Moralus, who ensures we elves have Proper Music to work by. Old Jove said your voice would raise the spirits of the most frostbit soul—some elves sing for centuries and never earn such high praise as that!

And Miss Emma—you grow lovelier each winter, and have become Quite The Help around the house. We could use such a hand as you in Santa’s Workshop—the tools get in such disarray during the busy days before Christmas Eve. The Tool-Mistress and Chief Shop-Keep, Methody Straitner, has been hard at work for years organizing the tools and benches and bins to ensure Peak Efficiency. She has seen your handiwork in the kitchen cupboard, and deems you a Natural!

Master Gabriel: I must compliment your question about the existence of frost dragons. Father Christmas and I are both honoured that you would entrust such a question—regarding the Very Existence of a Great Something you’ve never seen—to us, when we know your friends and neighbors have questioned our own Very Existence! I fear, however, that I cannot give you certainty. There is one among My People, a most adventuresome elf called Articus Chippenhammer, who left the Nail Corps when so many toys shifted from wood to plastic. His great-grandfather was a paleomythologist of some reknown, and Chippenhammer has since put his hammer to work exploring the Polar Wastes for signs of such Legends as Abominable Snowcreatures, Sasquatches, Frost Dragons, and the like. It is slow work, chipping away at millenia of rock and ice looking for Mere Fragments of white bone, hair or scales, and after decades of digging he’s found Nothing Conclusive yet.

And finally, B. You are strong, smart and responsible, and have done a remarkable job in your First Year helping your Family bring Christmas to fruition. Well done! A generous heart and a willingness to serve others will serve you well in life, Eldest Brother. Remember the Bishop of Myra, St. Nicholas, and Christ Himself, as your examples, and you will Have Love and Be Loved.

Happy Christmas to you and your family, and Safe Travels to your Busia and Dziadzi. God Bless You and your Family. I wish you All the Best in the New Year—and Always!

Yours truly,

Siberius Quill

Greetings From the North Pole, Part V

24 December 2007

My dearest Children!

Another year spent, and quickly! They say, among Your Folk, that the years go Ever Faster the older you get—imagine, then, when your age reaches into the centuries! It seems only Yesterday I was introducing myself, and here we are, Old Hands, as they say.

The Watchers Corps tells me you’ve been Exceptionally Good, all told. All Children have their naughty moments, but according to your assigned Day-Watcher Seamus Farseer, yours are scattered and relatively minor in the Big Scheme of Things. Scopes, as we call him, lacks the patience of his grandfather, the astronomer Nebular—he quickly tires of good families like yours! Old Nebbs has scolded him many a time for betting cups of hot cocoa on the wrongdoing of Other Children!

Lady Emma Rose, now in Kindergarten: already you’ve made a name for Yourself as a child of Honesty and Kindness. It is hard, no doubt, to be the Only Girl among Boys—but Always Remember: it is more important to be Nice than to be Noticed! You are lovely and polite, sparkling like the snow, as your Dziadzi’s song says, so you’ll always be seen, regardless. And young Master Trevor: with So Many older kids about, it is no wonder you feel Overlooked, but believe me: we see and hear you, too! Patience, little Master: Good things come—truly!

Magnificent questions this year, Masters Brendan and Gabriel! To G. first: You asked how Father Christmas writes so well, by which I suppose you mean, how does he make such Splendid Letters when he writes Children by hand. Well, the Old Man has written the notes for So Many Christmases now, he’s had plenty of practice! But more importantly, he makes his Joy (which is Abundant!) manifest through his pen! Think of it this way: You must feel what you want your Reader to feel, then imagine what you want them to see, and only then put pen to paper!

And B., you asked about the Differences between St. Nicholas of Myra and Santa Claus, aside from the obvious—by which I suppose you mean the fact that Nicholas was an Archbishop who died circa 342, while your Santa is evergreen and ever-present (not to mention no longer a priest!). Sister Mary Faith Splendour of the Devout Sisters of Our Lady of Perpetual Winter tells me that this is an Especially Common question among Children your age. She reminds us that the simplest answer is best when you’re young—and that is, there is no difference; they are one and the same.

But you, Master Brendan, are a decade Wiser than when you arrived, so she shares this: The differences are all those you expect between the physical and the spiritual; the mortal and the immortal. While a Turkish priest can only work what Miracles own his imperfect Faith and frail Form will allow, the Spirit of Christmases Past, Present, and Future can do whatever needs doing, on a whim, fueled by the Faith of millions of people just like you! Miracles are difficult for Human Minds to comprehend, which is why your thinking deeply on these subjects is So Important!

Which brings me to it, at last: There is something I must ask of you, B., as Eldest Brother. As a Tweener, as you say, you may be called upon to take on New Responsibilities with regard to Christmas, as your Father did when he was ten. This new role is of the utmost importance and is, for Now, entrusted to You and You Alone. In a quiet moment, ask your Folks—I warn you, they might be caught off guard, but I’ve no doubt they’ll share it with you The Instant they are Ready!

Happy Christmas and Safe Travels to your Busia and Dziadzi. God Bless You and your Family. I wish you All the Best in the New Year—and Always!

Yours truly,

Siberius Quill

P.S. You may have noticed, as I have, that the older children get, the smaller their gifts (video games, for example, instead of great rumbling racetracks!). Since Santa’s sack is Magical, of course, this has no physical effect on how much he can carry—but it does require a recalibration of the spells. Two Mathematimagicians, Voluminous Theorim and Lucia Croix-Parallux, are responsible for such geometric calculations in the Fourth and Fifth Dimensions—assuring that everyone’s gifts show up precisely where they should in Space and Time.

Greeting from the North Pole, Part IV

24 December 2006

My dearest Children!

A very Merry Christmas to you all, Dear Children! Rest assured, your Wish Lists and Artwork arrived in fine form, and I must say, you are becoming Quite Accomplished as Artists! I shared your pictures with several Friends before passing them on to your Father Christmas. Dmitri Longbristle, an Elfin cookie-painter and candy-striper, loved them! (We laugh and call him "Drips," although he reminds us that he never makes a mistake he can't eat, so nobody's ever seen one—truly!). Drips was most impressed, Master Brendan, with your steady hand and eye for detail.

As for you, Master Gabriel and Miss Emma Rose, my cousins Versius Goodcheer and Sketchum Quill, who design Christmas cards, said you should consider making cards Yourselves next year! Your dear Parents and Grandparents would love them, no doubt.

Santa loved them, as well, of course—and your Lists were quite reasonable. He is Especially Pleased that the four of you play so well together—even sharing in fine fashion with young Master Trevor. Don't think it goes Unnoticed! Certainly, there are Things he cannot have—Things he would swallow and Things he would break—but he wants so badly to be like the Three of You. And I can't think of three fine role models. Be good to him, that he may grow to be good, as well.

As always, of course, Santa brings What's Best—so you'll get some of What You Want, some Things you didn't ask for, and some Things not at all. It can be hard to remember that Christmas, in all its radiant splendor, is not about Things a whit—but about Family, Humility, and Peace. If you are Lucky enough to have those things, give Thanks and be Content ...

That's a Hard Idea for young and budding Brains. Perhaps the eldest brother can explain? You've done well, B.—reading aloud my Old Letters so G. and "Rosie" (as the little one says) to teach them How and Why we do What we do. You may even have done too well! I was amazed to see not a Single Question this year!

I suspect that the younger Children will have fresh Concerns in the future. In the meantime, if you have Questions between now and Thanksgiving Next, do ask your Father. He is a good Resource on most things Santa, and loves the Spirit of Christmas that we Elves and Kris Kringle embody. And your lovely Mother—she embodies the Christmas before Bishop Nicholas was a Saint! As your parents' Christmas Letter said, your "very own Mary," a woman of God who lives for the Good of Others.

Happy Christmas and Safe Travels. May the Skies be blue, and the Earth, white, for your trip home. I wish you All the Best in the New Year—and Always!

God Bless You, Children, and your Family. Yours truly,

Siberius Quill

P.S. You've always taken an interest in my Elfin colleagues—tell your Dziadzi that our farrier, Frictz Grypsum, rubbed the hooves of the reindeer with a balm of bee's wax, flint dust and mountain goat dander especially for rooftops as pitched as his!

Greetings from the North Pole, Part III

24 December 2005

My dearest Children!

Merry Christmas, all! It has been such a pleasure watching you grow — in Body, Mind and Spirit — this past year. Master Brendan, reading at a level far beyond his age; Master Gabriel, starting school, making friends, and working numbers in his head; and young Miss Emma, ever the Angel, blossoming into such a lovely little princess. And Master Trevor! Up and walking, a whirlwind of smiles and mild destruction! Don’t get too frustrated, Friends — he won’t be a toddler forever!

You may wonder how it is that I’ve been watching you this past year, when I’m a Correspondent and not a Watcher at all. The truth of the Matter is that, since I’m assigned to you, I can periodically check in — the Watchers have a magic Glass, like a periscope, that I can use to look in on you and see what you’re about, just by swivel it about three complete times and saying, “I spy with my Little Eye … the Thorp children!” I also have Snow Globe that does the same, although not as clearly or closely — I shake it, say a few words, and in a flurry I’m gazing down on Your Neighborhood, watching you walk to the bus stop or play in the yard.

Which brings me to one of your questions this year: What days does Santa check The List? The List is maintained year-round but the Elves in the Watchers Corps, who monitor every child and update their notes daily. The Old Man can check in on the Watchers whenever he wants, as can the Watchers check in on you — but most Children warrant only an occasional peek a few times throughout the year, at those times when Naughtiness is most tempting — around Bedtime, say, or on the Way to School, when Mom and Dad aren’t around. As I told Miss Emma last year, it takes a Great Deal of Naughtiness to wind up on that list, and with Parents as demanding as yours, you’ve little to worry about! Listen to them, Children! They love you and will help you on Your Own Way!

Ah! I’m rambling! As the song says, Father Christmas checks the list twice: for your country, once between Halloween and Thanksgiving (some children are bound to be Naughty on All Hallows Eve!) and again between Thanksgiving and Christmas (while most Little Ones get increasing Excitable and forget their Manners as Christmas approaches, some Bad Seeds take root and bear fruit in that last month, in Hope the St. Nicholas soon will be there!

As for the Old Man’s name: St. Nicholas, as he was originally, was a Catholic bishop (like your Harry Flynn, if I’m not mistaken) long ago, who secretly left money and treats for the poor by hiding things in their shoes, leaving them on their windowsills or dropping them down their chimneys. The Dutch called St. Nicholas “Sint Nicolaas” and “Sinterclaas” — this latter name became Santa Claus in America. The English call him Father Christmas, which the French say “Pere Noel.” And people the World Around call him Kris Kringle, which is derived from “Chistkind” or “Christ Child” — a reminder that Jesus is Born this Day! Like the Magi, He delivers Gifts and Blessings to our future Kings and Queens, the Children of the World!

You’ve also asked how long it takes to make All Those Toys, and how Santa can visit all Children in One Night. Remember, we no longer make all the toys — we’ve no skill for making Computer Games and such! But with So Many children, we build, order, test, bind and protect toys year-round. Those children Less Fortunate than you, who don’t have toys, or clothes, or even enough food to eat, get what attention we can give to them even in the Summer. So we’re always Very Busy! We keep up the Same Way old St. Nick does: Hard Work and Handy Winks.

I suspect you understand Hard Work as well can be expected for your age. Handy Winks are what Your Parents might refer to as doing something “In the Blink of an Eye!” It’s magic, really — So Much of Life is spent with our eyes closed (sleeping, blinking, sneezing and prayer!) that Santa conjured a spell to help us work Super-Quickly when our eyes are closed! We can accomplish more in a blink that most Folks do in an hour!

Tremendous questions! I so enjoy sharing with you. A note about Gifts: You will not find Everything you asked for this year — other Children have Greater Need, and certain of the games and movies you’d like, Master G., aren’t appropriate for you yet. Still and all, I suspect you’ll be pleased!

God Bless You, Children, and your Family. Yours truly,

Quill

P.S. So you’re amateur Stargazers, now, eh? Wonderful! Our Chief Astronomer and Navigator, Nebular Farseer, bids you Clear Skies!

Greeting from the North Pole, Part II

24 December 2004
The Night Before Christmas

My dearest Children!

At last! the Blessed Day has arrived to find all Four of you on the Good List (despite your mother’s teasing). Well done! I trust you will be pleased with your Many Gifts. Although it is not everything you asked for, young Masters, the Old Man (Santa, of course) made doubly sure to bring you that One Special Gift you wanted most. Use your duel disks well and wisely, and take care of them — they are quick to break if mistreated!

Master Brendan: So much of what you wish for is meant for Older Children. The games, especially, are not for you — not yet! Be patient, Young One, and don’t try to grow up too fast! Enjoy being a child while you are still young. The same for you, Master Gabriel. Soon you’ll be in school. Enjoy your time at home with your Mother, Sister and Baby Brother — for once you’ve grown up, you will miss it!

Emma — you’ve got a mischievous streak in you, but not nearly enough to be labeled “Naughty.” (It takes quite a bit to actually get on the Naughty list…) You’d make quite the Elf were your ears pointed. Unfortunately they aren’t — and you’re already the size of full-grown Elf. Keep growing, and next Christmas you’ll be bigger than me!

Now to your questions. All of the things you are wondering about are quite common questions from kids as they get older. The Truth, of course, is that Magic is terribly hard to explain to you who are not surrounded by it daily — to us, Magic is commonplace. Before Santa was Santa, he was St. Nicholas — the Bishop of Myra, whose faith in God brought forth miracles through him. Brendan, you asked how Kris Kringle can circle the globe in a single night. Put simply, he believes he can and he does what he must. Certainly the reindeer are fleet of foot, and of course not everyone believes in Santa Claus, so he need not stop everywhere. But where he goes, he goes quickly, like the Winter Wind — slipping down chimneys, through keyholes and beneath doors; everywhere and nowhere at once. How did he get this job? By being Himself! He is Santa as Santa is him. No other Saint, no man or Elf, can do what he does — he is the One, the Only, Father Christmas; the Spirit of the Season dressed all in fur. He takes on many appearances and has many helpers, both here at the Pole and living among all of you — but there is only one Santa, and Santa is he!

And you, Gabriel, asked how Santa gets down smallish chimneys and how we Elves can build toys so fast. St. Nick, you may know, comes in all shapes and sizes — tall as a Lord and slender, or short and plump; tiny as an Elf or big and strong as an ox. He takes whatever form suits him best in his work, and would appear to you as you picture him in your head. As for chimneys — they are of little concern, as he can change shapes, and whisks down them like a draught of winter wind, rising lazily out again as smoke!

As for the toys, you may have guessed that, with So Many children and so many toys, we no longer make everything by hand. We specialize in the Art of Toy-making — wood-work and painting and sewing and the like — and our Elvish toys go mainly to the youngest and neediest children. All are blessed by the Old Man himself, and sealed with Spells of Finding and Mending, so they are never lost for long and are easy fixed if broken. Let’s see — you also asked how we Elves get our jobs. The short answer is by being Elves! Like Santa, we do what Elves do, and that’s work Christmas magic. Of course, we are born into the Family Business, as they say — so that I am a Elfin Correspondent — a writer — like my forefathers.

As for other Elves, Brendan — your Father has kept last year’s letter safe — it contains the names of many of my family. My own Dear Wife is Grace Quill, formerly Goodcheer, whose family has long been Keepers of Christmas Spirit. I will share two more with you, as they seem Particularly Important given the weather in Minnesota this week. Kelter Skiff, my Good Friend, engineers the runners for Santa’s sleigh, such that they glide over even the slightest hint of snow, or even a frosty shingle! And of course, Flurious Windwatcher, our head meteorologist, has his eyes on the skies like your Father, watching for snow. Old Windy is never short of opinions or grumblings, but he’s the best in the business!

God Bless You, Children, and your Family. Travel safely!

Yours truly,

Quill

P.S. Happy Christmas, and a joyous New Year to you all!

Greetings from the North Pole, Part I

16 December 2003

My dear Thorp children,

Of course we can deliver your presents on Christmas Eve Day — why, your mother used to receive her presents every year on Christmas Eve! We try to accommodate all Holiday travel plans (within reason), for there is nothing more important than Family at Christmas!

So rest easy these next few nights! Know that your letter was very well received — Santa loves to hear from his children, and especially appreciates your Honesty about those times you’ve been less than perfect. We will compare your Wish List against what we’ve prepared for you, but remember! Santa knows best what you need, and often has his own ideas. You may not get everything you’ve asked for, but I am certain you will be Very Happy on the morning of December 24!

Merry Christmas Brendan, Gabriel and Emma!

Siberius Quill
Elf Correspondent


* * * * *

23 December 2003
The Eve of Christmas Eve

Dearest Children!

Happy Christmas to you all! How fortunate that I should be assigned to your family, for I am the Very Elf who wrote you just a week ago to tell you your Santa Letter was not in vain. (Of course, no such letter ever is!) Ah! I am reminded that you are all so Very Young — I must think more slowly and write more simply. And as you are a New Family, and this is your first letter from a Correspondent, I should introduce myself…

So I shall! I am Siberius Quill III, a Correspondent in Santa’s Letter Corps and fifth-generation Elfin Scribe. I am to be your Personal Contact and Pen-Pal here at the North Pole for as long as you will have me. You see, when human children reach the age at which they begin writing letters, lists and questions for Santa — when he can no longer hand-write a note to you over cookies and milk — we Correspondents take over. Like your Father, my talent lies in language. Let the other Elves make toys; I’ve no knack for tools!

Unlike your Father, however, I am descended from a long and proud line of Writers. My great-grandfather, Siberius the Old, personally penned Mr. Kringle’s first List of Names. (That was long centuries ago, however — several Great Uncles, Uncles and Cousins now compile the names, but The Old Man still has a nose for telling naughty from nice!) My grandfather, Siberius II, is Santa’s Chief Calligrapher, and my father, Scribner Quill, teaches Foreign Penmanship — Japanese, Arabic and the like. My mother’s kin are Writers, too — her father, Brevity Parchment, heads the Tags and Greetings division.

We Correspondents are good for more than just lists and letters, Children — as you get older and wiser, you will likely have fewer questions about What Santa does, and more and more questions about Why and How he does it. Consider me your Primary Resource regarding All Things Christmas — I will do my level best to tell you everything I can! Of course, not even the Elves know everything Pere Noel is about — but what I know I will share, because sharing is one of the simplest Good Deeds you can do. Remember that!

Now then — you’ve asked me no questions, boys, but you did ask your Father one, didn’t you, Master Brendan? Let me see — I believe you wanted to know what happens should children like Yourselves awaken when Santa is about! Your Father told you what he thought, and it’s exactly so — old Santa smiles at them, his eyes a-twinkle; places his pointing finger to his lips, and shhh! Out they go, like an Advent Candle, to sleep deeply and dream pleasant dreams — remembering nothing, or almost nothing, of what they think they’ve seen. Ah, but your Dad remembers — buried in his head are the unconscious thoughts and waking dreams of the Little Boy he used to be. He remembers!

Master Gabriel, I must mention that Santa was most Impressed and Flattered that you wanted a red fur suit for Christmas, to match your Christmas hat, no doubt. Though you’d make quite a strapping elf, you are not quite tall enough for the robes of St. Nicholas, nor round enough to fill Santa’s trousers. Keep growing, young Master, and you’ll make a fine Father Christmas yet.

All our Love to Emma and your Mother and — Can this be? — a new Baby on the way? Bless my soul, but you’ll keep me busy. A fine, Big Family indeed! Happy Christmas, Young Ones — may God bless you and your family as He blessed us all those many years ago, in a Bethlehem stable, in the hay. And a Happy New Year, too!

Your Most Sincerely,

Siberius Quill

P.S. If you like, you may call me Quill!

How It All Began...

Back in 2003, our children mailed their letters to Santa Claus very late and were quite concerned that he might not realize we would be traveling on Christmas. Prior to that winter, Santa had always left a short handwritten letter near the cookie plate, but with more kids and more questions, he found himself in need of assistance. (After all, he is a busy man that time of year.)

Several days before Christmas, we found a card on our mantle, and Christmas morning, a letter from from a young (relatively speaking) elfin correspondent named Siberius Quill. For thirteen years now, Quill, as he prefers to be called, has written us every Christmas, answering and even anticipating our children's questions and curiosity and helping to convey the authentic meaning of the season.

In more recent years, Quill has taken an interest in sharing his knowledge of Christmas more broadly, and I agreed to help however I can. Since elves tend to avoid technology in accomplishing their work, it made sense that I would help with a website. And since elfin writers—even professionals like Quill—tend to write in their own peculiar style, I am pleased to serve as his editor.

Also, he agreed that I could share the letters we've received over the years by way of introduction. More than that, I will leave to him—I am certain he will have mastered the blog in the coming weeks!