After several years of avoidance I have finally succumbed.  My little one told me hesitantly this morning and with a heartbreaking hint of sadness that all her friends at school had an elf.  “An elf?” I said thinking of the demonic looking little thing that everyone Pinterests about; that’s a full time job.  “Was I bad?” she asked, bringing me back to the present.  “Oh honey NO!”  I exclaimed as I knelt down to brush back her auburn curls.  “Then why don’t I have one?” she asked with eyes as wide as Betty Lou Who.  Feeling just like the Grinch, I heard myself saying, “Those elves are snitches, you know.  They tell Santa.”  And then, without guile, my little one turned to me and said, “But Mama aren’t I good?”  In an instant I knew what I had to do.  I called a family meeting and announced to Daddy that our girl wanted to have an elf in the house for Christmas.  My mother always adored Tinker Bell and, borrowing from that, I asked if our sweet girl believed in Christmas magic.  We all put our hands together and I was surprised when my beloved was the first to proclaim, “I believe” in his low, mellifluous voice.  Our little one’s eyes visibly widened as she fervently said, “I believe.”  Then without hesitation I said, “I believe.”  Our heartfelt plea went up to Santa at the North Pole and I looked toward the fireplace, saying that’s how he would get our request.  Then we were off; rushing to school and work.  Outside our Holy Nativity was not up; neither were our lights.  The Christmas tree was still living in the closet under our staircase and I had 200 Christmas cards to send out.  Then there was my work, physical therapy on my recovering broken shoulder, two grocery stores, reassessing our homeowner’s insurance which was coming up for renewal, and of course my blog.  My beloved fortunately had the day off and I asked him to please hit the grocery stores and drag out the tree.  I blew off the homeowner’s stuff and signing our Christmas cards, which left me JUST enough time after finishing everything else to run out and get the girl elf on the shelf our little one had asked for.  To my delight they also had reindeer!  I figured in for a penny; in for a pound.  So I picked out our two newest family members and rushed home to set them up.  We barely got the tree plugged in before dashing off to pick up our little one from school.  Usually we ask about her but this time we talked about how exhausted we were from being gone all day and that it would be so good to finally be home.  When we pulled up I quietly asked if something seemed different.  “Nope” the hubs said without a trace of melodrama.  So we unlocked the door and entered a silent, darkened house.  Even the wolfies were not there to greet us.  And then, as if in a trance, our little one went straight through our home and down into our den where she saw our Christmas tree sparkling with silver and blue.  “Daddy, you put up the tree!” she exclaimed.  “Nope,” my loquacious beloved replied.  And then she saw her.  Nestled toward the top of our undecorated tree a little girl elf peeked cheekily out from behind the lit branches.  We heard the most incredulous gasp followed by a shriek and a jump.  “MAMA!  MAMA!  SHE’S HERE!  LOOK!  SANTA REALLY SENT HER!  DADDY!  LOOK!!”  “And she must have brought our tree,” I said as if I were deducing a puzzle.  “SHE DID!  SHE DID!  SHE BROUGHT CHRISTMAS MAGIC!” our baby doll exclaimed with wonder and conviction at the same time.  “It says her name is Noel Magique” I told our little one and she said, “Mama!  Santa knew to send a French elf because you speak French!”  (Technically her name is not grammatically correct but I think it’s pretty.)  “CHRISTMAS MAGIC!!!” our little one exclaimed as if she’d just solved a puzzle of her own.  American author W. T. Ellis said, “It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air.”  My little one had hers and rekindled our own.  Thanks to a five year old, it came to us complete with a little Noel Magique.