Being a family means you are a part of something very wonderful. It means you will love and be loved for the rest of your life.
~Lisa Weedn
“I don’t want Eli to go,” whispered six-year-old Madi, the youngest of our three girls. It was December 23rd, almost time for Eli, our house elf, to return to the North Pole.
Madi looked up at Eli perched on the fireplace mantel, his lips frozen in a joyous smile that reached right up his rosy cheeks. She crawled onto the couch with me, squirming her way under my quilt and resting in my lap. I stroked her hair. “Eli will always be part of our family. Enjoy the time we have with him now so it’s special,” I said. She still looked worried.
“I’ll miss him,” she said.
“I bet he’ll miss you too.”
Eli was named after Madi’s kindergarten crush, and we were now stuck with the name even after she decided that the human Eli was icky. He arrived every year on the first of December to observe our three girls and report back to Santa on their behavior.
Eli takes an interest in our family activities. When we painted acrylic Christmas trees and Santa Claus’s boots, we left out a brush and canvas for Eli. While snug in our beds, Eli painted us a picture of a wrapped present and signed his name. We hung his canvas on the wall with ours.
We dug out our big book of short Christmas stories to read a few each night leading up to Christmas. One morning we caught Eli sitting with the book in his lap turned to the first page of the next story. Eli likes to hear holiday stories just like us.
When we baked chocolate chip cookies to prepare for Santa’s arrival, we awoke in the morning to find Eli had decorated them with red and green sprinkles.
Madi looked forward to getting up every morning to see what Eli had done overnight.
On Christmas Eve morning, Madi woke me with urgent news. Her little face was almost touching mine and her eyes were wide as saucers. “Mommmm,” she whispered breathlessly.
“What, honey? You hungry? What time is it?”
“There’s a big present in the living room. Can I open it?”
“Um, really?” I swung my legs to the floor. Madi grabbed my hand and led me to the living room. Sure enough, there sat a large box wrapped in shiny red and white striped paper and topped with a big red bow. I sent Madi to wake up everyone else.
Then, with everyone gathered around the mystery present, I lifted the tag and read aloud, “To my family. From Eli, your house elf. Thank you for welcoming me into your home and for letting me join your family activities. I’ve never had a family before. Now I can say I do. I will miss you all so much this year. I can’t wait until next December. I hope we paint again. That was my favorite. I cannot wait to report all the good things about your family to Santa. Love, Eli.”
“We’ll miss you too, Eli!” Madi said. The three sisters went to work tearing off the paper and opening the top of the box.
The girls shrieked as they pulled out the gifts inside. There were Christmas-themed pajamas for each member of our family, popcorn, cocoa and a Christmas movie. They ran off to try on their pajamas.
I looked up at Eli’s favorite perch on the Christmas tree, now empty.
“Thanks, Eli,” I said. I looked forward to sharing our traditions again with him the next year. I would miss him, too.
~Mary Anglin-Coulter
