Grace the Elf

As everyone knows, Christmas time is the busiest time of year in Santa’s workshop. It’s when all the elves realize how far behind they are in making presents and the chronic procrastinators start pulling their hair out and snapping at any elf that looks at them the wrong way. Grace hated this time of year. During the summer, she could take a break and play Frisbee with the other elves, and if she broke something, they wouldn’t mind too much. They’d just say something like, “It’s ok, Grace. We can make another one.” But not during the Christmas season.

Nope, no one liked Grace at Christmas time. You see, Grace was an elf you might characterize as clumsy, or accident prone. She was unusually tall, almost three feet, and she had rather large feet. Her legs were skinny and knobby, and her arms were freakishly long. Sometimes her awkward appendages were hard to control. She always ended up poking another elf in the eye with her elbow or knocking over a Christmas tree. These kinds of mishaps are extremely irritating to stressed-out elves. Even her very best friend, TJ, would say “Grace, maybe you should go somewhere else for a while.” It was always the same story, and this year was no different.

It was the day before Christmas Eve and somehow Grace had managed to avoid any serious disasters in the weeks before. She knew she had to be especially careful now, though, because if she ruined something there wouldn’t be much time to fix her mistake. It was crunch time.

Grace had gone all day without any accidents at all, so she was pretty proud of herself. “I deserve a nice, cold Coke,” she said, and she skipped over to the pop machine. On her way back to her work station, she stopped to talk to TJ. “Hey TJ, guess what? I haven’t had an accident all day!” Grace said lifting the tab on her pop can with enthusiasm. To her horror, the can started spewing sticky wet foam all over the table of toys.

“Oh no!” shouted TJ.

“The Hannah Montana tickets!” screamed the irate elf across from her. “Look at these! They look like that say Nanna Mountain now! What preteen girl is going to want to see someone called Nanna Mountain in concert?!”

“I’m sorry!” Grace said sincerely on the verge of tears. She had been feeling so good about herself up until this point and now she had spoiled an entire days worth of ticket making.

“Well sorry isn’t good enough! They are all ruined! That’s a whole day of work down the pooper! Maybe you should just lock yourself in a closet until Christmas is over, Grace. It would do everyone a big favor.”

“Sorry,” she repeated quietly as she turned away so that no one could see the silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

Grace ran down the hall into her room and threw herself onto her somewhat undersized bed. “Why am I so clumsy?” she sobbed into her favorite teddy bear. Maybe she just wasn’t cut out to be an elf. Maybe Santa’s workshop would just be better off without her.

Grace got out a pen and paper. “Dear Santa, I am running away because I am just too clumsy to be an elf. I ruin and break more presents than I make, and I’m afraid that one year I really will ruin Christmas. I think it would be best if I left now before it’s too late. Love, Grace.” She folded the note and put it in her pocket. She would drop it off in Santa’s office on her way out.

After packing up her teddy bear and a few candy canes for the road, Grace walked forlornly down the hall, wondering where she would go. Just then she heard a scream.

“Help! Someone help! Santa’s in trouble!”

It was coming from the break room. Grace ran down and peeked her large head around the corner to see what was going on. There were about 20 elves crowded around Santa, who was kneeling on the ground next to the snack machine.

“What’s going on?” she asked with a voice full of concern.

“Grace!” said Santa. “I’m so glad to see you! I was just getting some of Grandma’s double chocolate chip cookies from the vending machine, and, well, now I’m stuck.” The elves around him stepped back, revealing his short, pudgy arm in the window of the snack machine. “My watch is caught. Do you think you can help, Grace?”

“I don’t know,” Grace said sadly. “I would probably just end up breaking your arm. I’d better just not get involved.”

“But none of us have arms long enough to reach his watch,” pleaded Derek, the elf that had yelled at her earlier. “And he can’t get out alone.”

“I don’t suppose I could take a vending machine with me down a chimney,” Santa said solemnly. “For the first time, I think we might have to cancel Christmas.” All the elves dropped their heads in despair. “Are you sure you can’t help, Grace?”

“Well, I guess I could try,” she said reluctantly. Grace bent down next to Santa and carefully placed her arm in the slot. With surprising ease, she was able to bend her arm the right way and free Santa’s watch from its trap.

“I’m free!” Santa cried, holding his arm triumphantly in the air. “And I have cookies! Thank you, Grace. You saved Christmas!”

“Hooray for Grace!” shouted Derek.

“Yay!” the other elves chorused.

And from then on, no one got mad at Grace when she broke a toy or knocked something over. They just said something like, “It’s ok, Grace. We can make another one.”

The End