Shoe Stuffing Elves

The boys had earned a reward and I agreed to take them to a store so they could pick a candy bar. There is little in the world more exciting to Gerrit than going to the store with money for candy. Ethan also likes candy but what really makes Ethan happy is to play video games. By the time we left the house Ethan had convinced his little brother to pool their reward money and rent a video game instead of buying candy.

I’ve been the little sibling in a few similar equations.

“You know what would be a good idea, Shannon? We could split the back seat 50/50!”

“OK.”

“Great! I’ll take the half up here on the seat, and you can take the half down there on the floor!”

Because of experiences like that, I tried to intervene on the little sibling’s behalf. I reminded Gerrit that he really likes candy and he had worked hard to earn his treat. He said, “Well, it’s OK because an elf is going to come in two days and fill my shoes with candy anyway, so I’ll still get some candy.” What? Who is going to put what where?

A friend from Gerrit’s class told him that each year on December 6^th her family puts their shoes on the window sill and an elf comes while they sleep and fills their shoes with candy. I’ve since learned this is a German Christmas tradition relating to Father Christmas, but Monday afternoon I told Gerrit I didn’t know anything about shoe stuffing elves, and because I’d never seen them before, I had serious doubts they’d be filling his shoes with candy this year.

I told him some families celebrate different traditions. For example, Fearnleys eat Brussel sprouts at Thanksgiving, Santa comes to our house and fills our Christmas stockings, the tooth fairy leaves us crisp dollar bills, we like to leave a carrot out for the Easter bunny, and those sneaky Leprechauns pull pranks and evade our best efforts at capture every year, but I was pretty sure we weren’t expecting any elves on December 6^th–shoe stuffing or otherwise.

We went to the video store rented the game and skipped the candy. I thought that was that until December 6^th, of course, when Gerrit was trying to decide where to put his shoes–which window is most likely to attract an elf. With Ethan’s encouragement, he ultimately chose the one by the Christmas tree. I said nothing but my inner Ebenezer Scrooge said, “Bah humbug, this will teach him not to always fall for Ethan’s machinations.” The strange thing was that Ethan seemed genuinely excited about helping Gerrit choose the most elf accessible perfect shoe place, and was putting his own shoes out, too. Eric was wondering if Ethan was really hoping for shoe candy too or just setting Gerrit up to be really disappointed.

Later that night, as Eric and I were heading to bed, we noticed something–the shoes on the window sill were no longer empty. They had indeed been filled and now had a cordial note from Billy the shoe stuffing elf.

Early the next morning Gerrit discovered his full shoes. He was so excited that the elf had really come and left some treats (little plastic dinosaurs, Legos, and fifteen cents) in their shoes. Even though the shoes didn’t have the hoped for candy (in fact, the contents were somehow familiar) his joy was still genuine.

Maybe there really is a shoe Christmas Elf. I just don’t know anymore. My inner Ebenezer has been sufficiently chastened by Billy the Elf. This wise elf knew his little brother really did deserve a reward, and Christmas magic is even better than candy bought from the store. Seeing both my boys excited over this simple tradition, one in the giving and the other in receiving, is a gift.

As a bonus Billy the Elf cleaned up a few toys from the floor so maybe he is really a cleaning elf who comes to good little mommies and daddies. If I try real hard to be good and believe maybe next year on December 6^th there will be candy in shoes and scrubbed bathrooms too! Merry Christmas!