On the fourth day of Christmas Week, we bring you a special tale guaranteed to inspire snowflakes and sugar plum fairies swirling around your tree…or at the very least, twinkling tinsel!

“I know where the spirit of Christmas is.”

The voice giggled in her ear.  Annoyed, Eira brushed at the side of her face.

“I know where the spirit of Christmas.”  The whisper was louder, more urgent.

“Go away,” Eira growled.

“How can you tell me to go away when you don’t know who I am?” the voice taunted.

Opening her eyes a tiny sliver, Eira glared into the dark.  “You’re either an elf or a Christmas ghost or a sugar plum fairy or Santa, and I’m not scared of any one of those.  My cousins have taken over my room and I’ve got to sleep in this drafty attic.  Whatever you are, at least you can let me sleep.”

“But if you sleep, you won’t find the spirit of Christmas before Christmas morning!” the voice whispered, hoarse with urgency.

“Why do I need to find the spirit of Christmas?” Eira muttered, pulling a pillow over her head.  “Shouldn’t it already be around?”

“No,” the voice replied, sad now.  “It’s hiding.”  It giggled.  “But I know where to find it!”

Eira squeezed her eyes tightly and pretended she couldn’t hear the voice.

The voice huffed in her ear, muttered and whined shrilly.  “Come on,” it begged.  “Let’s go.  It’s almost morning.”

Eira didn’t move a muscle.

“It’s really neat,” the voice promised.  “You’ll love it.”

Eira pretended to snore.

“I’m going to sing Christmas carols at the top of my lungs if you don’t get up,” the voice threatened.

Eira pretended to snore louder.

“JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE ALL THE WAY! OH WHAT FUN IT IS TO RIDE”–

“Fine,” Eira hissed, throwing off the covers and jumping out of bed.  “What is wrong with you?  Do you want to wake up the whole house?”

“If it would accomplish something, then yes,” the voice replied, peevish.  Giggling, it raced toward the door.  “Get your coat and boots!  We’re going outside.”

Eira stopped in the middle of the cluttered attic, the moonlight falling over her porcelain skin.  Brushing her dark hair out of her face, she glared.  “Outside?  You didn’t tell me we were going outside.”

“I didn’t mention that?” the voice replied, pretending to be nonchalant.  “Oh.  We’re going outside.  Get your coat and boots.”

“Not until you show yourself,” Eira replied, crossing her blue flannel-covered arms.

The voice was quiet.  “Why?” it whispered finally.

“Because I want to know who is responsible for waking me up in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve when I’ve had to deal with being pinched and prodded all day by relatives I rarely see and then having to sleep in a drafty attic”–

“Ok, ok,” the voice grumbled.  Slowly, a tiny creature crept into the moonlight.  “Happy now?”

Eira stared at the figure.  “Mooby?  The moose?  The one Mom pulls out every Christmas and puts on the mantle?”

“There’s no need to write a book about me,” Mooby replied, scowling.  “I never liked that name anyway.  I was a majestic Christmas moose with a red bow and mistletoe and your family turned me into a shabby child’s decoration.”

“We all love you!” Eira cooed, patting his fuzzy brown antlers.  “You’re our favorite part of Christmas.”

“Yes, well…”  Mooby coughed and lumbered toward the door.  “Do you want to find the Christmas spirit or not?”

“Might as well,” Eira shrugged, grabbing her grandfather’s old coat and hunting boots and climbing into them. “I’m up.”

Mooby was already moseying down the hall and towards the stairs.  For a moose with floppy bean bags legs that normally draped over the mantle, he moved quite quickly.  Eira hurried after him, jamming too-big leather gloves on her small hands and a orange knitted hat on her head.  Throwing a scarf around her neck she grabbed from the hall, she followed Mooby out the front door.

They went down the driveway, across the street and cut into the frozen creek behind her neighbor’s house.

“This probably isn’t safe,” Eira hissed, grabbing a branch as her foot slid on ice.  “There could be bears out.  Or we could fall through the ice.  Or get frost bite.”

“We’re almost there,” the moose grunted, climbing over a snowy log.  “Almost there.  It won’t be long now.”

“This better be good,” Eira growled, frowning as snow tumbled into her boots and dripped between her toes.

“It’s good,” the moose giggled.  “It’s very good.”

They reached a clearing in the woods that surrounded a frozen pond created from the creek.  Plopping down on a wooden log, Mooby looked expectantly at the sky.  Drawing her coat tighter around her, Eira glanced up.

“I don’t see anything,” she whispered.

“Shhhh,” Mooby hissed, his black button eyes intent.  “Watch.”

Sighing and shivering, Eira pressed her frozen lips together and stared up into the clear winter sky.  It looked like lush velvet sprinkled with tiny crystals that moved and shimmered in the icy light.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of bells jingling.

“Here it comes,” Mooby whispered, giggling.

Before Eira could speak, she watched as a large red wooden sleigh flew overhead, pulled by eight reindeer.  Inside the sleigh, a white-bearded figure waved a red-mittened hand.

“See it?” Mooby hissed.  “Do you see it?  If you don’t see it, it can’t be found.  You have to see it.”

Squinting at the back of the sleigh, Eira gasped and covered her face with one of the too-large gloves.  Streaming behind the sleigh like a lush ribbon, colorful scenes dropped into the sky like rouge ornaments.  There was a elderly man sneaking gifts on his neighbor’s door, knowing that the children within would have no Christmas otherwise.  Another was a dog licking a delighted child’s face.  There was a baby smiling as it gnawed on its first cookie, a woman tucking in her child and a man toasting his neighbors.  There were people knitting gifts, children helping elderly people and families gathered around the tree.  With every moment, more and more scenes floated before her eyes.  Scenes of giving, kindness, compassion and love.  Watching in rapt awe, Eira felt her heart ache and tears come to her eyes.

She felt a  nudge and heard a familiar voice in her ear.  “I told you that you’d like what you saw.  Now you know what the true spirit of Christmas is.”

She would never forget.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! We have more fun coming up!  Merry Christmas!