Tobbin had spent the last few days in his hiding place. The family was gathered together happily, delighting in the little crafts and daily surprises tucked into their advent calendars.
For the two girls, Tobbin had prepared a very special advent calendar. He had strung a golden cord down the hallway, up along the staircase railing, and all the way into the children’s room.
Little pouches of red and green velvet hung from it. Each day, the two girls found a small surprise inside, taking turns.
Now that the house was decked out for Christmas, the advent calendar was filled, and the advent wreath hung from the ceiling, the little elf could rest for a few days.
Every now and then, late in the evening, he hopped through the open kitchen window to visit his friends in the dense spruce forest.
He fed the deer and stags, chatted with the old owl and the foxes. Sometimes he told them about the two girls, who were already brimming with excitement for Christmas.
But Tobbin knew that the hardest task still lay ahead of him. As he did every year, he wanted to give this family a magical Christmas tree too.
Yet he was sure that the girls’ father would bring home a lovely tree, and that the children would have great fun decorating it.
So this time, the elf came up with something different. In the family’s front garden stood an old, lonely blue spruce.
Ever since Tobbin had moved into the house, the tree had tugged at his heart a little. You could tell just by looking at it that it had many years behind it, and its branches had grown a bit brittle.
“I’m going to give you a very special moment to shine this Christmas!” the elf said with a grin, and got straight to work.
Once the family had gone to bed and the snowstorm had finally eased a little, Tobbin began wrapping the old fir in a long string of lights.
For that, he needed the big ladder from the garden shed once more. He looked around the old shed and found a dusty box holding large red Christmas baubles.
In no time at all, he hauled the box under the tree, set up the tall ladder, and explained to the fir what he had planned for it. The tree agreed, and before long it was glowing in a beautiful, warm shimmer of light.
Tobbin carefully hung the red baubles on the fir’s branches, always taking care not to harm a single one of its boughs. “Now all that’s missing is the crowning touch,” he murmured, giving the curious tree a wink.
He pulled a golden star from a little pouch and gently set it atop the treetop. Tobbin was pleased with his work, and by the time he finished, morning was already breaking.
He hurried back to his hiding place and peeked curiously out from the cupboard. At last, he heard four sleepy little feet coming down the stairs.
Still a bit drowsy, the two girls sat down at the kitchen table and started eating their cereal. When their mother opened the curtains, they could hardly believe their eyes. In the front garden stood the old fir, glowing more beautifully than ever.
Now their father came down the stairs too and stopped in amazement. “Who keeps doing all these wonderful things for us?” he asked.
But no one had an answer for him. “Christmas can come now!” the girls cheered happily. They wriggled into their snowsuits and twirled around the old fir tree, giddy with excitement.
Then the other members of the household came out into the garden too, and admired the beautiful tree together. For a while, they all just stood there, taking it in.
Only then did the parents whisper to each other: “The magic of Christmas really is real.”
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