A Snowball Christmas: Chapter 1
- Henry Livingston
- Oct 27, 2025
- 8 min read
Updated: Dec 3, 2025
A SNOWBALL'S CHANCE
The cold winter night plays background for a small house in the center of a northern town. Its windows tinted with a hint of frost, yet revealing the warm glowing flicker of a fire inside. A fireplace topped with a new log bears witness to an elf using its light to burn the midnight oil. The elf is putting together a small personal heater. He looks sure of his talent for doing the task at hand, but something different sits behind his gaze. What could it be? Why does he seem unfulfilled with it? A label attached to a letter sits on the mailing box awaiting its purpose. The tag reads: To: Samantha Greene. From: Santa.
“Such an odd thing for a six-year-old to ask for,” the elf says after assembling the heater, “but I get it. I know she’ll be happy with this.”
The elf suddenly stops talking and looks to the person looking through the window at him, “Oh, you scared the tinsel out of me.”
Immediately he hurries to open the door, offers you in, and asks you to have a seat, “When did you get here? I must have been really into assembling Samantha’s heater. My apologies. This is surely an odd way of beginning a Christmas story. Tell me, were you out in the cold long? You look chilled to the bone. Let me get you some cocoa.”
After making cocoa for you, the elf...
“Never mind narrator person, I can take it from here,” the elf interrupts.
Okay, I will check back with you later.
“Thanks. Let me start with a Hello there. My name is Nixie Snowball, and I am an elf. What kind of elf do you ask? Oh, you didn’t ask… sorry about that. I forgot that non-elf folks don’t really ask that question. In the Elven Community it is par for the course. See on the Northern Elf ladder there is a very structured hierarchy in place.”
“To whom you are born paves a way for future generations. Ice Elves for example, are at the top of the ladder and they always get the best jobs too. Next are Snow Elves, they run finance with serious precision. Then Frost Elves, our logistics gurus, and finally, Drift Elves, they get all conservation jobs that keep the North Pole humming. Each Elf Heir status depends on your mother’s lineage, but only for the first one hundred years. After one hundred years of strict observance, you are placed by the Peak Mother and her Precipice Staff into your Placement Occupation Category.”
“As a custom and kind way of getting to know someone for the first time, I must introduce myself to you and I know you are dying to know who I am, right? No? Very well, I may be simply excited to talk to someone other than my tools and computer components. So, let me start again. Yes? I am getting a little anxious and it is making me read mixed signals, so I will just let you know what kind of Elf I am. Okay? Okay.”
“Let’s start over from the beginning, my name is Nixie Snowball, I am a Drift Elf in the NPMD, North Pole Maintenance Division. We ensure that the North Pole in all its wonder stays in tip top condition so that the big day is the only focus for the big guy. We pride ourselves in keeping the workshops, warehouses, baking houses, wrapping houses, and office spaces maintained at a higher standard of functionality.”
“I am considered exceptional for a Drift Elf by Peak Mother Wynter Tannenbaum. She gave me high marks in every standard category. Said I was exceptionally good with mechanical devices, technical designs and architectural specifications. Then added I was a phenom when it came to figuring out enigmas, putting mechanical things together and so on, but not enough to be qualified for my dream job as a Toy Maker.”
“I have tried petitioning many times to be reassigned to the toymaker position. Each time my petition is denied I must wait twenty-five years before I can petition again. I am at ten by my count and every time I submit, Peak Mother and her staff claim that I am not the right fit for that POC. Also, despite several Ice Elves with no skillset that are whisked away to the Toy Maker Division after my submissions, I still think I have a good shot at switching my occupation at the North Pole.”
“I have been studying and taking night classes at the bakery to become a toymaker, but Peak Mother still refuses to change her original assessment of me. I am hopeful that the eleventh time is the charm and since Christmas is about miracles, I believe I am sure that I will change my maintenance tools in for toymaking tools.”
“Wow, that was exhausting. Thanks for letting me do that Narrator person, you can take it away.”
Very well, Nixie.
“Wait. Now you know my name?”
Yes.
“Why didn’t you say it in the beginning, instead of calling me elf?”
It has always been to keep it a mystery until your name is brought forth at some point.
“Ah. That makes sense, I suppose. Just being called elf though is kinda hurtful if you already knew my name. I mean, narrators don’t usually have names. So, me saying narrator person would be acceptable, correct?””
Nixie?
“Yes.”
May I continue?
“Oh yes, please do!”
Thank you. Several months later, Christmas in July Celebration is in full swing with December Twenty-fifth arriving very quickly. Nixie’s petition reaches the office of Peak Mother Tannenbaum.
“Here are the petitions for POC changes Peak Mother,” a female elf adds placing the petitions on the Peak Mother’s desk.
“Thank you, Icelynn. That will be all.”
“Yes, Peak Mother.”
Icelynn Northbrook exits and sits at her desk outside of Peak Mother’s Office. She has been the APM, Assistant Peak Mother, and lead advisor for the past two hundred years. Handpicked by PM Wynter Tannenbaum from a group of forty. Every so many years PM Tannenbaum says this may be the year she retires, but it never comes to fruition. Therefore, Icelynn has become less hopeful of that happening and simply smiles and nods to the false claim.
Two hours go by, and PM Tannenbaum exits her office and hands the list of applicants to Icelynn that will change their POCs, “please make sure to process these quickly. The toymakers need a boost in personnel due to the increase in newer toy demands,” she smiles and soon after leaves the office.
The office is quiet as a church mouse until she leaves the office. Once the door closes a count of thirty seconds is started by an elf closest to the exit door, “and… we are clear.”
The workplace voices of Elven personnel slowly rise to that of a normal office. Some laughter is even heard from time to time. Icelynn takes the applicant list to a nearby clerk, “Please input these into the system as soon as possible.”
The clerk smiles, “right away, Miss Northbrook.”
“Thank you, Figgy,” Icelynn goes back to her desk and Figgy begins transferring the names, “All of these are Ice Elves again. Why won’t she ever pick other family heirs for toymakers?”
“Ours is not to question the Peak Mother, Figgy. We simply do as we are told,” Icelynn adds firmly.
“Apologies, Miss Northbrook.”
“It’s fine as long as you keep those outer thoughts to your inner self.”
“Of course, Miss Northbrook. I was about to –”
Figgy lets out a scream replacing any other words about to come out. His mug of hot cocoa has spilled into his lap. During his jolt getting up, his finger keystrokes the letter ‘B’ instead of the letter ‘F’ making the Ice elf applicant’s name N. Snowball rather than N. Snowfall.
Several elves come to help him clean the mess up quickly, just in case…
The door opens and the room goes silent. Elves stand up or scramble quickly to return to their desks, “What is all the commotion about,” Peak Mother asks questioning professionalism in her place of work.
Figgy starts to speak up and explain what the commotion was about, but is cut short by Icelynn’s words, “there was a cocoa spill, and it has been taken care of.”
“I heard an elf-girl scream,” PM Tannenbaum adds.
Icelynn smiles and bows respectfully, “No need to worry about the little things, Peak Mother, I will see to the cleanup. You have so many more important things that need your immediate attention. I will tend to this.”
“Thank you, Icelynn.”
“Of course, Peak Mother.”
Peak Mother closes her office door behind her. Once they count thirty seconds the office returns to low conversations and from across the room Figgy whispers, “thank you,” to Icelynn.
She nods, “did you finish the list?”
“Yes Miss Northbrook, I am sending it up right now as we speak.”
“Good. Carry on.”
“Yes, Miss Northbrook,” Figgy finishes and hits the enter key. At that very same moment on the other side town several members in the North Pole Maintenance Division hear Nixie’s voice as clear as day, “YES,” then a soft thud as Nixie has fainted and fallen onto the floor.
The paper Nixie is holding onto tightly reads:
N. Snowball,
We are happy to report that your petition to change your Placement Occupational Category (POC) has been approved and you are hereby transferred from the North Pole Maintenance Division (NPMD) to the North Pole Toy Making Division (NPTMD) effective immediately.
We think you are a perfect match for the role, and we are looking forward to having you report to North Pole Personnel Department (NPPD) as soon as possible for reassignment.
Congratulations,
Figgy Pepperfluff by Direction
A few elves help pick Nixie up and put him on a softer surface. After about an hour Nixie comes to and sees folks standing around him, “what happened?”
“You fainted,” one of the older elves says.
“Fainted?”
“No doubt from the good news in your hand,” another elf adds, “sorry, I did not mean to pry and spoil your moment.”
“It’s okay, Cheery,” Nixie says softly looking back at the paper smiling, “so it wasn’t a dream.”
“We are really sad to see you go,” an elf with a manager badge expresses through the small crowd gathered around Nixie, “but we are really pulling for you to do good things in that division.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hollypants. Thank you all for your kind words. I will make you all proud. I promise.”
“We know you will Nixie,” Mr. Hollypants replies looking at the letter still gripped tightly in Nixie’s hand, “you have been trying for this position for a long time, right?”
“Maybe once or twice,” Nixie returns.
“Try more than two hundred years,” Cheery shouts merrily.
Everyone laughs and as Mr. Hollypants places his hand on Nixie’s shoulder he adds, “You best be getting over to the NPPD before they change their minds.”
“Would they do that,” Nixie questions quietly.
“I doubt it, but better not take any chances with the Peak Mother’s decision.”
Nixie’s face changes to that of purpose, “Right, time for me to get going. Thanks, Mr. Hollypants. You have been the best boss I have ever had.”
“Nixie…”
“Hmm?”
“I am the only boss you have ever had.”
They both giggle and before Nixie leaves the room he turns back, “seriously Mr. Hollypants, I am truly thankful for all the training and lessons you have shared with me during my time in the Maintenance Division and I will never forget them,” he smiles, opens the door and departs.
Mr. Hollypants smiles at the now closed door, “I know you won’t, kid.”
The group of elves still excited from their coworkers’ good news are starting to gain in numbers and after a few moments of glee Mr. Hollypants reminds them that they still must work in this division.
“Yes, Mr. Hollypants,” they say in unison.
“We will throw a party for Nixie soon,” He smiles again, “In the meantime, let’s get to it.”
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