Happy Elves, Happy Shoemakers

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Happy International Workers Day and Labor Day!

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When they were dressed, they leaped and bounced around the room, singing, “Now we’re elves so fine to see, no longer cobblers we will be.” They jumped over chairs, raced around the shop and finally ran out the door. The click and clack of their new shoes echoed through the streets.

 

From that time on, the little elves were not seen again. But the shoemaker and his wife lived a long and happy life.

The Elves and the Shoemaker, a retelling of a story written by the Brothers Grimm, illustrated by Jim LaMarche

 

Santa’s Goblin War

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During the final 12 days before Christmas, I am posting quotes from Santa’s letters – courtesy of JRR Tolkien. It’s a wonderful book and a grand idea. I wish I’d thought of it. 🙂

The following story line occurred during World War II and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was author-Tolkien indulging his own novel-writing habits or father-Tolkien trying to address his children’s fears and anxieties by creating a fictional war both fought and won by Santa himself. It would make a wonderful classroom discussion or term-paper topic.

“Goblins are to us very much what rats are to you, only worse because they are very clever; and only better because there are, in these parts, very few. We thought there were none left. Long ago we had great trouble with them—that was about 1453 I believe—but we got the help of the Gnomes, who are their greatest enemies, and cleared them out.”

“I had to blow my golden trumpet (which I have not done for many years) to summon all my friends. There were several battles—every night they used to attack and set fire in the stores—before we got the upper hand, and I am afraid quite a lot of my dear elves got hurt…They have rescued all my reindeer. We are quite happy and settled again now, and feel much safer. It really will be centuries before we get another goblin-trouble. Thanks to Polar Bear and the gnomes, there can’t be very many left at all”

“I wonder what you will think of my picture. “Penguins don’t live at the North Pole,” you will say. I know they don’t, but we have got some all the same. What you would call “evacuees”, I believe (not a very nice word); except that they did not come here to escape the war, but to find it! They had heard such stories of the happenings up in the North (including a quite untrue story that Polar Bear and all the Polar Cubs had been blown up, and that I had been captured by Goblins) that they swam all the way here to see if they could help me. Nearly 50 arrived.”

Letters From Father Christmas by J.R.R. Tolkien

 

Elven Snow

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Snow floats down, tossed by the wind in lazy spirals, and hits the sharp treetops. A flake lands on my cheek and melts in an instant of shock. Water’s finest form, the elves call it.

Gold Runner: A Novella of Goblins, Theft, and Teenage Gods (United States of Asgard) by Tessa Gratton