Monday, December 14, 2009

First installment of "My Life: Simon Elf's Autobiography"

I know—real brilliant title. 
No clue what this lunacy is? Click here to get all the juicy details.

My Life: Simon Elf's Autobiography
Part I
*author's note: I haven't changed a thing. I wanted to preserve its "authentic" value. And oh yeah, I feel like a total nerd for sharing this with everyone. But onward anyway...





















   Hi! My name is Simon Elf. I am one of Santa's elves. I am going to tell you a little bit about me and my life at the North Pole. You may think my job is relaxing and no hard work at all. Well, you're wrong. My life is a lot harder than yours. And I don't get paid for me work.
   No normal person can be an elf. You have to be born on Christmas day and you have to want to become an elf. I was born on Christmas day and I wrote a letter to Santa asking if I could become an elf. I was an orphan. I was born December 25, a hundred or so years ago.
   Elves never die. That is why he has so many of them.
   OK, enough with the history of how elves became.
   I guess anyone telling about their life should begin with the beginning, birth.
   As I said, I was born on Christmas days a hundred years ago or so. I weighed 8 pounds exactly. It was early in the morning, around 6:00 a.m. It was freezing outside, or so I thought.
   I was born in a little town very close to the North Pole. Nichles Town. It was decorated with a little tree in the very middle of the town. Wreaths hung from every lamp post. Yes, it was festive. For a hundred years ago it was wonderful.
   But I got tired of the same decorations every year. I got tired of the little town. Nothing against the people, for they were all so kind to feed me but, I wanted a change.
   None of my friends believed in Santa. I knew he was real though. I had no parents, who else would have brought me presents? Even though the town was sweet, they never would have come out of their cozy little home to give me a present, too cold! And there was a story told that if you came out of house, in the night, on Christmas Eve, in Nichles Town, the bad elf would get you. Now of course there was no bad elf, I knew. I slept in an old shack, hardly sheltered. It had no roof and one time I started a fire to keep me warm through the night and it kind of got out of control and burnt one side of the shack completely down.
   Anyway, what I'm getting to is, I wanted a change. So one day, (I had just learned how to write. But I couldn't read.) I wrote a letter to Santa, asking him if I could live with him. I would become an elf if I had to.
   I was sure that the North Pole would look even more grand than the festive Nichles Town.
   Right then I brought it to the nearest post office. They told me that they would not send a dumb letter to Santa. They soon changed their minds when I started to sob.
   I stayed at the post office until I saw them give it to the delivery man. When he walked off northward, I was satisfied. I waited a month or so and then I got a letter. It was addressed to me but there was no return address. When I opened it, it said to be ready and packed on Christmas Eve night.
   I didn't know what it meant but I listened to it and I packed all of my belongings, which wasn't much. Nichles Town always has a donation for the poor on Thanksgiving Day. That's where I got all my clothing. Three shirts, three pants and a hat and some stockings and a pair of shoes. I brought all of my clothing, a compass I had found on the ground, a book that I couldn't read, one coin that my friend had given me on my birthday, one car from a train set, and last, four of my favorite berries from some kind of berry bush. I packed them all in a small cloth that had blown into my shack from the wind. I sat out side of my shack in the cold snow and freezing wind. I was excited and sort of scared to see who was coming for me.
   I had decided that Santa wrote that letter. Maybe he would pick me up and then I could help him deliver all of his presents. Maybe he would let me ride Rudolph. That was the only reindeer that I knew about. I knew that he had eight others and that was it. I wasn't sure if I knew how Rudolph came about, but I was positive I would find out.
   I sat there dreaming of who would come to pick me up for what seemed  like forever, and then suddenly I felt very different. I don't know how to explain it really. I then, could have sworn that I was floating. Then, the next thing I knew, I was in a completely different place.
   Much bigger than the little town called Nichles. Definitely more decorated than Nichles, and with a lot more people out and about. Certainly there was no bad elf in this town.  Then, I noticed something, these people, were much different from any person I had ever seen in Nichles Town. Or maybe these were normal people and the people from Nichles were different, I didn't know, all I knew was they were different. They were little!
   I stood and watched as they all hustled around with presents in each hand. I saw a little boy walking very slowly. He was balancing five presents in each hand. If you measured how tall the presents were, they would probably be taller than himself!
   Then I noticed the clothing, boys went around wearing green little outfits with pointy hats and pointy shoes and bells connected together for a belt. Girls went around wearing red dresses with gold or silver bows in their hair and on their shoes. They had gold or silver tinsel for a belt. I saw they were wearing pins of Christmas trees, presents, stockings, snowflakes, and a whole lot more!
   Definitely more festive than the boring, dull, Nichles Town.





















I stood there looking around, not knowing what to do or where to go. Finally a girl noticed me. She came over to me.
   "Hello, you must be the new one." She smiled
   "Um, I guess I am. Where am I?" I asked.
   "The North Pole of course!" she acted surprised that I didn't know where I was. "You are the one that wanted to become an elf aren't you? Did we have a mix up? Oh no! Santa will be so angry!"
   "Yes! I did!"
   She sighed in relief.
   So that was the beginning. As I mentioned before, I burnt down one side of the shack. I was quite a destructive child. I didn't mean to be.
   Each year, Santa picks an elf to fly with him. I really wanted to. I started to beg Santa to let me go with him. I begged day and night. I started begging in the month of June. I knew that if I drove Santa crazy, I wouldn't go. But I couldn't help it. There were other reasons that I knew Santa wouldn't pick me because of them. Killing the mistletoe. That's a whole different story! Getting tangled up in the lights and tripping on the tinsel and knocking the tree over. How was I supposed to help that? Eating two months worth of sugar cookies. I was hungry!  All of those things were on accident! Well, maybe eating the cookies weren't. But I learned my lesson. That's when I found out that I'm allergic to sugar cookies. I got real sick afterwards.
   I knew Santa wouldn't pick me this year or any other year. I stopped begging. I became sad. Then I knew how to get picked. I would do the best job I could do at my job. Except one problem, I didn't have a job. I was still new and unexperienced.
   I thought forever. Then I decided I would do something nice for Santa without him knowing. I decided I would take care of the reindeer. I would feed them, clean them, groom them, and give them water. Then Santa would for sure pick me.  So every day, I took care of them. Rudolph didn't like carrots. So I tried new things. I tried an apple, a banana, an orange, corn, beans, grapes, and cookies. He like the cookies and grapes, so that's what I fed him.
   Then something horrible happened! The reindeer got sick! And it was only a few weeks until Christmas! What did I do wrong? I had to tell Santa. I was afraid he would be so angry. I told him though.
   Come to find out, somebody already had the job of taking care of the reindeer, so they were overfed. I should not have been feeding them cookies either. Grapes were fine, but the cookies had to go. I started to cry. Now there was no chance of Santa picking me. The reindeer would be sick on Christmas. Would Santa have to cancel Christmas?


...duh duh duh. To be continued.............

7 comments:

Stacie Couch said...

haha I just love this!! I am reminded of when Ali would write stories and how funny they were, but she meant every word. So fun that you still have it!

thekerrclan said...

I love it - and the pictures are awesome.

Audra said...

So cute! You were a very talented 12-year-old. I couldn't think of something so cute!

Katie said...

I like it. :)

I have to admit though, even though we haven't met Santa in your story yet, I'm a little afraid to. Everyone seems afraid that he is going to be mad at them...

Season said...

Ha, you're so right, Katie! I made him out to seem like a real crank, that's for sure. Hopefully there will be some redeeming qualities that surface. Perhaps it's a reflection on the fact that my dad was/is a no-nonsense kind of guy. ...who knows. :)

Rachel said...

Seaz Love it!! Tell Tom great job on the pictures. I expect to see this story in print soon :)

Tracy Giles said...

It's so fun! Now I'm going to read the second installment.

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