Once upon a time, in an enchanted forest filled with singing birds and shimmering streams, there lived a cheerful little elf named Ellie. Ellie was the kind of elf that everyone loved. Her laughter tinkled like the merry chimes of a tiny bell, and her heart was as big as the sun at noon. But there was one small problem—Ellie had a terrible habit of forgetting things!
Every year, all the elves in the village gathered to decide who would deliver the magical gifts to the children. This year, of course, it was Ellie’s turn. As she hopped and skipped through the village, visions of smiling children danced in her head. But as the days passed, poor little Ellie began to worry.
“Oh dear! Oh my!” she exclaimed one bright morning, flapping her hands. “Today is the day I must deliver the gifts! But what if I forget where to go? Or mistake one child’s gift for another?”
Her kind neighbor, Wise Old Elf, chuckled merrily. “Use a notebook and pencil, dear Ellie, to jot down all the addresses and gifts! That way you won’t forget.”
“Oh, what a splendid idea!” hummed Ellie. But as soon as she hopped away, she forgot about the notebook and pencil.
The sun rose like a great golden ball, and the Elf Village was aglow with happiness. Pint-Sized Pixies started packing sleds with toys, games, and magical kits to sprinkle fairy dust over sleepy children. Ellie waved her wand and summoned her four little squirrels to help carry the gifts. “Now, now, quickly, quickly,” she patted. But wait! What was that? The squirrels were so full of glee that they scurried away and forgot where they were to go! If only Ellie had remembered to write down the addresses!
Three hours had passed before the fairies peeped out of their homes. As soon as they spied the sparkling toys, they flew excitedly by the rushlight star, talking one to another. “Whose gifts are these? The Squirrel Club Society have forgotten to come and take them.” They thought a minute, and then Rococo, the fanciest fairy of them all, cried, “These gifts are meant for Tom and Jane, and I’ll gallop after them at once!” She flew as fast as she could and soon reached Jane’s house, where all was silent. Suddenly she heard sweet soft voices singing to the little ones in the nursery. Up she flew to the window and peeked in. There lay Jane in her mother’s lap, and a beautiful colored picture book was just being handed to Tom.
“They were not naughty children after all,” Rococo thought. “How disappointed they would have been to-day without these magical gifts.” So, she fluttered her bright wings and hailed the passing clouds, who came swiftly down and took her with them to the palace in Fairyland, where she hoped to deliver the gifts.
Meanwhile, poor little Ellie, still worrying about the lost gifts and how she could regain them, wandered through the villages and towns, up and down, in and out, but it was no use. At last, like the tired little elf she really was, she darted into a cottage to ask an address. The good woman inside smiled kindly, pointed to a bed in a corner, and said: “You had better rest a little while with my poor little sick baby.” Even if it was another person’s cottage altogether, Ellie, nothing flurried, crept under the bedclothes, where she remained till the day dawned.
Then she started on her travels again. She went to every town and village, but could only hear of one of the missing gifts, the calendar. This had been found by a kitchen girl who lived in one of Old Farmer Page’s farmhouse. Now Farmer Page was the shoemaker of their village. “Maybe I may reach home in time to buy a new pair of shoes from Farmer Page,” thought Ellie, brightening up. “How glad poor old children will be to get them!”
Ellie need not have worried over Farmer Page’s being angry with her when he found how careless she had been. “Bless you, dear children!” he exclaimed with a cry of joy. “We thought you never would come. It is two days after Christmas Day, and the old shoemakers are so impatient about their new shoes, and where are your gifts?”
“Then I can’t buy them now,” Ellie sobbed, rubbing her tears into Farmer Page’s waistcoat.
“Where is old Rococo?” asked the shoemaker, when he was asked; and then he and Ellie sat down to hear together all that the good fairy had to tell them. When she had finished, they breathed a long sigh of relief, happy that she and all the gifts had been so well cared for. If Ellie ever forgot another thing again, it would be the sandwiches and sweet-meats the fairy wanted in exchange for the gifts before Ellie returned to the Elf Village once more.
“Oh dear!” sighed poor little Ellie, “you never can tell me ENOUGH, but I must only remember it is my duty to deliver gifts, and to do it as soon as I can! I was naughty to delay so long.”
“We will see to that when the New Year’s Day comes round again,” the fairies whispered one to another as the elves’ gifts were distributed to their happy, happy little owners.