Snowflakes fall silently amongst twinkling lights; storefronts glistening with the appeal of luxurious gifts fit for the season watch as the flakes land gently on to the huddled shoulders of those hurrying home before the cold seeps any further into their bones. The melody of snow crunching underfoot and the chatter of teeth are the only sounds to be heard as you pause to stare up at the dancing puffs of white. You part your lips, a cloud of frosted breath swirls above you as you try to catch one of the delicate flakes on your tongue. You feel them land, only to melt before the sting of the cold registers to your senses. After a few moments, you shiver and realize you should get home before the chilly wind freezes you further.

You open the door to your small apartment, toeing off your snow-covered boots in the entryway, and survey the holiday mess that is your living room. Boxes line the far wall, strands of garland and lights spill over the sides. An assortment of ornaments in another box next to a half decorated tree glimmer dimly in the light from the street lamp outside. A pile of unwrapped presents sat strewn around the coffee table. With being so busy at work because of the fast-approaching holiday, you hadn’t had time to finish decorating your place. Now, Christmas was only a few days away and you couldn’t see yourself having the energy to complete the task. You shrug; no one would be visiting your place this year, although having a decorated home sure did help in getting you into the Christmas spirit.

The clock on the wall above the TV begins to chime the arrival of a new hour. Your eyes widen at the lateness of the night, but you are not completely surprised. You will be happy when work hours return to normal. Shuffling along to your bedroom, you grab your pajamas and head to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When you finally crawl under the covers, you have a quick thought of how nice it would be to have someone to decorate and wrap presents for you. Too bad that everyone was far too busy to help with such things. With an exhausted sigh you make yourself comfortable and you are asleep before your head hits the pillow.

In the morning, you awake before the sun has even poked its first rays over the horizon. You ready yourself with your eyes half-closed and stumble to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. You rummage around in the cupboard for the biggest mug you have and begin to pour the steaming liquid up to the brim. As you pour, you look up in to the living room; something seems different. The thought is slow to come to you, but you have no time to process it as you feel something wet and scalding drip onto your bare foot. In your sleepy daze you over-filled the mug, the brown liquid now spreading across the counter, spilling over the edge and landing on your feet. You let out a yelp and a curse as you hurry to grab a towel to clean up the mess. By the time it is all cleaned up and you toss the soiled towel in the washer, the clock shows five minutes past the time when you were supposed to leave. You mutter another curse, grab your purse and coat, and rush out into the swirling snow.

Work drags by agonizingly slow; the phrase of greeting the steady stream of customers soon becomes a mantra that you say without even thinking. The sun has long since fallen to bed when you finally step out of the shop and turn towards home. You arrive back and repeat the same routine of the night before, except you decide to treat yourself to a cup of tea before bed. As you wait for the tea to steep, you walk over to the couch and sit down with a sigh. You stare at the rolls of wrapping paper on the coffee table for a long while until you realize the empty candy wrappers littering the surface. You don’t remember eating any candy, but then again you couldn’t remember a lot lately with an exhausted brain. Gathering up the trash, you stand up and pass by the glowing Christmas tree. Wait, what? You halt in front of the plastic evergreen, now adorned with lights and shimmering ornaments. You definitely don’t remember decorating the tree. Hastily, you look around the living room and notice that the boxes of decorations were empty, the contents now displayed cheerily around your home. Who had been here? You run through the list of people who had possession of extra keys, but all of them were too busy to have done all this. Your mind is racing when you remember that you had asked your close friend to drop off a package you hadn’t had the time to pick up from the store. Perhaps she was the one who took pity on the sad state of you place and decorated it for you. You let out a sigh of relief and make a mental reminder to call and thank her in the morning. With your tea now cold, you dump it in the sink and make your way to your bedroom. You shake your head at the madness the holidays were causing you, counting down the days until you could have a reprieve of all the stress.

You are awake before the sun yet again and begin your morning routine. As you make your usual cup of coffee, you glance up at the Christmas tree and drop the bottle of creamer from your hand at the sight; a pile of beautifully wrapped presents sit piled neatly around the bottom. You step over the creamer and rush over to the tree. You know for certain that you hadn’t done this in your sleep. You crouch down to take a closer look at the gifts and reach out a hand to pick up one of the boxes. It is perfectly wrapped, no uneven edges or tape can be seen, and there is a tidy bow sitting on the top. You look at the other gifts and quickly notice that they are all wrapped just as expertly. For a moment, the awe of seeing such beautifully wrapped gifts takes your mind off of the fact that the gifts seem to have magically wrapped themselves overnight.

The sound of light snoring snaps you back to reality. Snoring? The walls of your apartment weren’t so thin to where you could hear the snoring of your neighbor. You stand up slowly and look around as your heart begins to pound quickly against your chest. You hold your breath and strain your ears to find where the sound is coming from. It takes a moment until you find that it is coming from over by the couch. Slowly, you walk towards to couch, the present still clutched in your hands. Your eyes scan over the couch, but find nothing. You trail your eyes to the coffee table where you notice even more empty candy wrappers strewn about. One particularly dense pile of wrappers moves up and down in time with the light snoring. Shakily, you extend a hand towards the moving pile and carefully knock a few of the wrappers aside. Underneath is a tiny creature, no bigger than a ruler, sleeping heavily with chocolate smudges surrounding his mouth. You in a breath and withdraw your hand. The creature moves slightly, its hand coming up to scratch at its belly. You step closer, intrigued, and lower yourself quietly to sit on the floor next to the table. The small creature has fair skin, a sharply angled nose, and plump pink lips; ebony hair falls wistfully over his eyes and pointed ears. He wears an evergreen colored outfit trimmed in bright red and pointed shoes with a golden bell sitting at the tip. An elf? As you lean in closer to see if he is real, you inhale and realize that he smells of peppermint. You reach out again to remove some more candy wrappers to get a better look at the creature when he suddenly sits straight up and lets out a scream.

“Yah! Don’t touch me!”

“E-excuse me?” you stutter.

“I said don’t touch me! Can’t you hear?” he grumbles as he stands up and brushes away the remaining wrappers.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly. Is this thing really talking?

“Geez, I work for two whole nights to brighten up this dismal place, and get repaid by nearly having a heart attack?” he huffs with his hands on his hips.

“You did all this?” you motion around the room with your hand.

“Of course! It wasn’t easy, you know. I’m very tiny, as you can tell, so doing this alone took a lot of time.”

“Ah, well thank you,” you turn over the present still in your hands, “but, what are you, exactly?” you question.

“An elf, you dimwit!” he scoffs, “My name is Kim Himchan and I am a Christmas elf.”

“Like the ones who make toys?”

“Yes,” he says, “but, my particular job is to go around and spread Christmas cheer to those who need it. And you, my dear, definitely needed it!” He chuckles lightly at this.

You bow your head in embarrassment, continuing to turn the present over in your hands. “Thank you,” you say again, “you did a really wonderful job.” You look up to see him smiling proudly at you, his warm brown eyes shining just as brightly as the Christmas lights strung around the room.  

Himchan walks over to the edge of the table and pats your cheek softly, “You are most welcome. I really am a decorating genius, aren’t I?”

You nod slowly in agreement. “There are still a few more decorations to put up, though.”

“Ah, yes. I was planning on finishing while you were at work,” Himchan replies.

“How about we put them up together?”

A smile spreads slowly across Himchan’s face. “Hmm, well I could use your help. I haven’t been able to put the star at the top of the tree.”

You grab your phone and make a quick call to work, ignoring the unhappy grumbles of your boss. Within a few hours the rest of the decorations are put up, the tree topper the only thing remaining. You grab the star with one hand and lower your other to Himchan; his tiny hands grab hold of your thumb as he climbs onto your palm. Once he’s securely on, you walk over to the tree and stretch up the hand holding the elf. He reaches out for a branch and pulls himself onto the tree, making sure his footing is secure before turning back towards you as you hand him the star. You step back slightly to make sure the star is on straight, instructing the elf to nudge it a little to the right. You give him a thumbs-up when the star is aligned perfectly and step back towards the tree, holding out your hand yet again for Himchan. He steps back on and holds tightly to your thumb as you bring him down to your shoulder. He steps off of your palm and onto your shoulder, grabbing a strand of your hair as he steadies himself into a sitting position.

Himchan swings his feet as the two of you admire your handiwork. Having an elf was extremely helpful, you decided. “Hey, Channie, want some hot cocoa?”

Himchan gasped and you could feel him begin to vibrate with excitement. “With lots of marshmallows?” he asked happily.

“Is there any other way?” you laugh. You make your way to the kitchen, thinking that Himchan was the greatest Christmas gift you could have received.

“Hey,” Himchan quips next to your ear, “got any more candy?”