Santa and his Elves

This week, one of my coworkers told me that the elf on the shelf was back. I didn't know what she was talking about, so I asked her to elaborate. She told me that every year their family's very own elf comes all the way from the North Pole, perches himself on the mantel in their house, and acts as the eyes and ears of Santa in Western Springs, ultimately giving the big guy the 'yea' or 'nay' on whether or not her children have been nice this year.

I was intrigued. We never had an elf on our shelf. Really? 
It's a little toy. Here. 
(Best idea, product and marketing campaign ever.) Ooooooh ... Do your kids believe it? 
My ten year-old is the biggest believer.
(I loved hearing that.) 

The other people listening to the conversation scoffed at the elf's manipulative undertones - bewitching your children with messages like, 'the elf on the shelf is watching you. What you say, what you do,' to force good behavior - kind of creepy. I on the other hand, was totally bewitched myself. In fact, I wanted to go out and buy one. For me. Because I too, am still a believer despite what happened in fourth grade.

Just before entering the Holiday Bazaar in 1991, I had emotionally defended Santa Clause in a sea of non-believing St. Edmund students about ready to do their trinket shopping. After we were unleashed in the cafeteria that, for a limited time only, was converted into a PTA sponsored boutique, my friend, Caroline, the wisest of my classmates, pulled me aside. 

I asked her, Don’t you believe?

She sighed and said, I believe in Saint Nicolas and the spirit of Christmas.

She was telling me what the others were, in a softer way. 

That Christmas I stayed awake a little longer, hoping to hear him.

No bells.

No sleigh landing on the roof.

No reindeer commands.

On Christmas morning, I looked for the tell-tale signs, hoping to see him.

The carrots on the plate were gone, but the bag of carrots in the refrigerator was full again.

The 'from Santa' looked like my Dad’s handwriting.

My sister got a hairdryer, which was not on her list.

After Christmas dinner, I listened to the Aunt’s doing dishes.

So does Adam still believe?

What did you get the kids?

Evan’s list was so difficult this year!

Before going to bed I asked my sister and roommate, someone that was wiser than even Caroline, the big question - does he exist?

And I got an answer:

He’s doesn't, but don’t tell Adam.

From then on, the ever maturing grown up inside of me kept my belief at bay. Apparently, it was foolish to believe such stories. So for fear of ridicule, I just stopped talking about him. And soon enough, so did my family.

But this Friday night, after Peter and I went out for some sushi, we were strolling along the illuminated River Walk, and saw him. 

The real him in Naperville.

He was closing up his little visitor's center for the night, ready to go home. I wanted to ask him a question or two, but I figured Mrs. Claus had dinner on the table and didn't want it to get cold. So I just stared. And just as magically as he got from the North Pole to Naperville and back again on Friday, he answered my questions without even asking.

He exists.
And ... he needs me to be one of his elves.  

So yesterday, my first day on the job, I set out to be a very good elf. I started working on presents for good little girls and I cleaned the whole house for a good little boy. I spread 10 miles of Christmas cheer on a run around Naperville. Then I made a very good little girl clap when I appeared at lunch. I spent the afternoon making a red and green feast for my family, and I even made those Swiss sandwich cookies again, but marked them as only an elf can do - with a little wishing star. And I put together a magical little movie about the best wedding ever for my guests to watch.

I took my job very seriously. And I loved every minute of it.

So, all you ten, eleven, and twelve year-olds out there. I know you are looking for something and someone to doubt. But I'm telling you, don't jump to a conclusion too quickly. As someone who saw Santa on Friday, and who has asked to be an elf, I've got the truth.

Tweens, be careful what you say, there aren't only elves watching from shelves, there is one who runs around Naperville every morning, reporting good and bad behavior to the big guy up North.

Lo.