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