At the close of autumn, the leafless trees of Central Park stretch their branches skyward like hands yearning for light. A paved trail guides both tourists and locals toward the ice rinks, while the gentle radiance of streetlamps and holiday decorations bathes the surrounding in warmth.
Amid the urban hustle, squirrels, spurred by the chill, dart to their nests with acorns and seeds - a fleeting reminder of the stillness that winter ushers in.
The city, however, gears up for the season with storefronts adorned in glimmering lights like a swarm of fireflies, and festive displays: mannequins clothed in velvet and sequins, flanked by holiday-themed trinkets. The avenues hum with constant motion as big brands compete for attention through vibrant ads and enticing deals flashing across screens of every size.
Yet, beneath all this outward sparkle, a portion of the holiday spirit seems to have dimmed in recent years. The relentless rhythm of modern life has steadily pushed out traditions that once united people, substituting them with the pressures of work, consumerism, and a growing sense of isolation.
What was once a time for reflection and gratitude, has transformed into a loop of empty expectations, where the chase for possessions has overshadowed heartfelt bonds, and happiness now feels more dependent on what is received than on what is given.
But everything changed on one cold night, just a week before Christmas Eve.
…
Little Jimmy remembers how he used to love Christmas, running through the garden with his cousins, feeling the icy touch of snow seeping into his gloves as they built wobbly snowmen, adorned with old scarves and funny carrot noses.
From the kitchen came the muffled chatter of adults drowned out by the clatter of plates and ladles striking pots, as a golden roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, beef ribs and other delicacies were prepared; dishes they would later share around the family table, surrounded by laughter and warm embraces.
When midnight struck, everyone would gather by the tree to watch as he and his cousins eagerly tore through brightly wrapped presents.
Those nights were filled with joy, the kind that seemed endless. But now, at twelve years old, those memories have faded into blurry echoes of what once was. Jimmy didn't know when Christmas had stopped being magical, but he longed for everything to feel like it used to.
Little did he know that, on this very night, he would receive a mysterious letter that would change his life forever.
It all began at 10:20 p.m., in the quiet of his room, while the rest of the house slept and little mice ventured out in search of crumbs.
…
Seated at the small desk in his room, Jimmy idly sketched in his notebook, as he often did to escape boredom. The soft glow of his desk lamp cast timid whispers of light onto the walls, barely daring to break the darkness. He knew he shouldn't be awake at this hour, so he tried to make as little noise as possible, careful to not wake anyone.
Beyond his window, the house remained silent, interrupted only by the occasional sound of cars passing by.
This time, he was drawing the figure of a plump man with a pointed hat and a flowing beard, resembling the kind lumberjacks might sport. It wasn't hard to guess that Jimmy was drawing Santa Claus.
As he added the final details to his sketch, a cool breeze slipped through the slightly open window, and he thought he heard a faint jingling sound, almost like the chime of a Christmas bell.
Jimmy looked up, the pencil still in his hand, and scanned the room, puzzled. After a few seconds, he shook his head, dismissing it as a tricks of the wind preying on his imagination.
But then, the jingling sounded again, this time drawing closer, sending a shiver down Jimmy's spine.
Jimmy shifted his gaze from the notebook, his heart pounding a little faster, and peered toward his bed. For a instant, he thought he saw a small figure dressed in red darting quickly into the shadows.
The sight startled him so much that he jumped out of his chair, and just as he was about to run to the door to wake his parents, the jingling sound rang again —this time, right behind him.
Turning slowly, his skin prickling with goosebumps, he was stunned to see a tiny creature perched on his notebook, gazing at him with large, rounded eyes filled with a warm, hopeful light.
Jimmy froze, his eyes fixed on the peculiar being, softly illuminated by the desk lamp. It wore a snug, red suit with a pointed hood, reminding him of Santa's classic attire. Its petite hands, sheathed in white gloves, rested confidently on its hips, and at the tip of its hood, where a pom-pom might typically sit, a small bell swayed gently, tinkling with each slight movement.
Still grappling with a mix of childlike wonder and unease, Jimmy leaned foward slightly and murmured:
"Hi…?"
The tiny figure didn't reply. Instead, it reached into one of its small pockets and, after rummaging for a moment, retrieved an envelope, which it carefully placed on the desk.
Jimmy blinked, unsure of what to think.
"For me?" he asked softly, glancing at the little elf. It nodded, and the gentle chime of its bell resonated like a soothing melody.
Overcome by curiosity and nervousness, Jimmy picked up the envelope.
The envelope was simple, marked with a single inscription: For James A. Carter.
Opening carefully, he caught the faint aroma of pine as he began to read:
"…Dear Jimmy,
Congratulations! You've been recognized as an outstanding child this year. Because of this, Mr. Santa Claus would like to invite you to visit the North Pole and its wonders! On December 24th, you'll meet him and have a special dinner with other children and magical creatures.
To join you on this magical adventure, one of our little elves will be with you to make sure everything goes smoothly…"
Jimmy paused, eyes wide open, and looked at the tiny elf, who gave him a cheeky smile. With a soft jingle of his little bell, the elf encouraged him to keep reading.
Jimmy, his heart racing, looked back at the letter, still in desbelief:
"…Here are a few important instructions:
• The trip will leave at 10:00 p.m.
• Please be ready at least 30 minutes before, as you'll be picked up between 9:30 and 9:40.
• If you're not at the pick-up spot before 10:05 p.m., the train will leave without you, and you'll miss the chance to meet Santa.
It's very cold at the North Pole, so make sure you dress warmly. If you don't have a coat, don't worry—we'll provide one for you!
We can't wait to see you soon!
Happy Holidays,
Mr. Jesper.
Official Postman of Santa Claus."
Jimmy lowered the letter slowly, his mind swirling with wonder. His gaze returned to the little elf, who stood patiently, the faint glow of its red suit reflecting the soft light of the desk lamp.
"Is this… real"? the only answer he got was the soft jingle of the bell.