It was a frigid January night at the North Pole, and the elves were busy packing up the last remnants of Christmas. Candy cane scaffolding was coming down, toy assembly lines were being oiled for next year, and the reindeer were enjoying a well-deserved vacation. But something unusual was happening outside the workshop.
“Chief Elf, we’ve got visitors,” said Pip, the head scout, bursting into the meeting room where a few senior elves were sipping hot cocoa.
“Visitors? In January? That’s impossible,” grumbled Bernard, the Chief Elf. “Nobody comes here after December!”
But when the elves gathered at the gate, they were met with a sight they never expected: a glowing baby in a manger, a group of travelers with camels, and three majestic kings in resplendent robes.
“Uh… Hello?” Bernard ventured, scratching his head. “Who are you, and what are you doing at the North Pole?”
The eldest king stepped forward, bowing slightly. “I am Melchior, one of the Magi. These are my companions, Caspar and Balthazar, and the child you see is the newborn King.”
“King?” Pip whispered to another elf. “I thought Santa was the only bigwig around here.”
Balthazar smiled warmly. “We’ve traveled far, following the star, to pay homage to the Christ Child. But the journey was long, and somehow, after our celebration on January 6th, we ended up… here.”
“You’re lost?” Bernard asked, incredulous.
“Not lost,” Caspar interjected. “Redirected by divine providence, perhaps.”
The elves exchanged skeptical glances. Divine providence or not, their workshop was not equipped for camels or unannounced royalty. Still, the baby’s peaceful demeanor seemed to soften Bernard’s heart.
“Well,” Bernard sighed, “we can’t have you freezing out here. Come inside.”
Inside the workshop, the elves and their guests exchanged stories over steaming mugs of cocoa. The Magi marveled at the elves’ intricate toy-making machines, and the elves listened in awe as the kings spoke of their long journey following the star.
Meanwhile, Baby Jesus cooed contentedly as the elves entertained him with jingling bells and brightly colored baubles.
“I must say,” Melchior said, stroking his beard, “your dedication to spreading joy and wonder aligns beautifully with our mission to honor the light and love this child brings.”
Bernard, usually gruff, nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe we’re not so different. We both work to make the world a little brighter.”
As dawn broke, the Magi prepared to continue their journey. The elves loaded the camels with supplies—hot cocoa, warm blankets, and a few hand-carved toys for the baby.
“Thank you for your kindness,” Balthazar said as they prepared to depart. “Perhaps next year, we’ll meet again—under the star.”
Bernard chuckled. “Just don’t show up unannounced, alright?”
With that, the travelers disappeared into the Arctic horizon, leaving the elves with hearts a little warmer and spirits a little brighter, even in the depths of winter.
The North Pole returned to its usual rhythm, but for days afterward, the elves spoke of the baby with the glowing smile and the kings with their heavenly mission. And Bernard? He found himself gazing at the stars more often, wondering if their paths might cross again.
