"The stars are twinkling in the sky, it's bitterly cold, everyone is asleep on the lonely old farm, everyone except one - Tomte Tummetott." The story of Astrid Lindgren's Tomte Tummetott accompanied us through an uncomfortable November last year. And while my children took the lovable little elf, who always hides well from people, to their hearts, I had an idea: this December, a little elf could move in with us too
So I made sure - just in time on the night of 1 December - that an elf set up home in the corner behind our kitchen door. I attached the little red door from the doll's house, which had fallen off anyway and should have been glued long ago, to the wall with a power strip. The gnome stole a table and a bench from the children's room, the little fir tree was found in the decoration box and in no time at all I had made a chain of bunting out of colourful washi tape. The miniature gnome world was ready without cost or effort.
Now I just needed to be imaginative. The idea was to make it look as if the elf would come into our kitchen regularly from now on - without the children ever seeing him, of course. After all, he didn't exist. It was just me, my ideas and the wonderful childlike imagination that imagines the story in the brightest colours.For now, the arrival of the elf was enough. It took a while for the children to notice the small furniture behind the door. But then the surprise was big. "Look at that, mum. What's that?". Questioning eyes, disbelief. "That table looks just like the one from my doll's house. And the door too." - So we went to have a look. Sure enough, everything was missing from the nursery. "Was that you, mum?" - "What, me? No! It looks more like a Christmas elf has moved in with us". Conversations like this now took place between my daughter and me on a daily basis.
On some days, the children even checked first to see if the elf had come to visit again overnight. Even before they ran to their knitted Advent calendars to plunder another bag. The story of the gnome was very real to them. Once he had stolen a plate from the doll's house and my two found crumbs from one of our home-baked gingerbread biscuits on it. "I think the elf likes to snack too". So they put some of their Advent calendar chocolate on his little table. Of course, it was gone the next day. Instead, they found a small letter in which the elf thanked them for the delicious treat.On another morning, there were crumpled handkerchiefs on the table and we were all very worried because the elf seemed to have a cold. We nursed him up and were delighted to see a sign of life a little later. He had actually started doing handicrafts during his bed rest!
Two toothpicks served him as knitting needles and he diligently helped himself to my woollen scraps. "Oh look mum, the gnome can even knit! Just like you!" - "Has he stolen wool from me? That's a rascal...". Over the next few days, a little knitted scarf grew and we puzzled over who the elf was knitting it for.
On Christmas Eve morning, it was lying on his table tied up with a bow and was actually a present for my daughter's Secret Santa doll. Oh, how happy she was! Then our elf quietly left again - just as secretly as he had arrived.
Will he come back this year? "We've moved house, how will he know where to find us?"
How nice that the children liked the elf so much. It's so easy to create a magical Christmas with a little imagination, a few accessories and some scraps of wool. While sweets never last long, the stories and the mini knitted scarf are still with us today.
I just heard the elf whispering: Happy Knitting and see you soon!
