A Snowball Christmas: Chapter 3
- Henry Livingston
- Nov 5, 2025
- 7 min read
Updated: Dec 3, 2025
THE WAY WE WERE
Monday Evening, July 7, 1800
In a quaint home not far from the center of town, a silver-haired elf is knitting a long skirt near a cozy fire. The chair beneath her layered with a series of quilts and knit blankets. She sits idly by as she waits to enjoy her tea cooling on a small table next to her.
The door opens briefly to keep the cold at bay causing a candle in the window to blow out. A younger elf enters covered in fresh fallen snow, “good eve, mother.”
“Good eve, child.”
“It’s getting bad out there.”
“I heard we will get another six feet before the morrow.”
“Then I better get an extra early start on the morrow,” the younger elf says hanging up her coat, hat, and scarf on a coat mannequin near the door, “I may have to skip over supper and go straight to bed,” she adds as she laughs half-heartedly.
“Why would you do that? Why are you punishing yourself, my dear Glacia?”
“Not a punishment, mother. Just want to make sure to get to work early is all. We have a busy schedule starting first thing.”
“Child..., I know you,” she puts her knitting needles down, gets up and walks over to Glacia, “I have not lived to be more than nine-hundred years of age and not see that my two-hundred- and twenty-eight-year-old child is hiding something from her mother. No matter how nonchalant she acts. So, tell me child, what is the matter?”
“Nothing is the matter mother,” Glacia says using her boot removal as an excuse to avoid her mother’s eyes, “just busy is all.”
“Just busy huh?”
“Yes...,” she looks up, and their eyes meet, “…mother,” she speaks softly.
Noella Wintera, Cookie to her closest friends, is a newly retired widow with a big heart. For years she worked directly with the Big Guy as part of his Christmas Crew. She ran the entire operation as Christmas Director, from takeoff full to landing empty.
She kept The List safe, Suit secured, Sleigh operational, and that The Bag imbued with magic was preserved according to the old ways. She ensured the reindeer were taken care of and had seen more than fifty of each reindeer replacement born for that magical sleigh ride.
She has helped many Elves make a name for themselves. Knowing what they want before they even know what they want. Rivaling The Peak Mother for placing Elves where they belong in the Elven Community. In her time as Christmas Director, she was the apex of a leader, and everyone wanted to be like her.
Then tragedy struck. Her husband died in an avalanche just shy of his eight hundredth birthday. Leaving her devastated and without the cheerful disposition that was needed for her position. Respectfully Santa asked if she wanted to continue as Christmas Director, but she sadly declined and has spent the last two-hundred years raising her daughter on her own. Out of the limelight, or so it seemed.
She gets a visit from Saint Nick every Christmas Eve just before the big run. He says she was his North Star before Mrs. Claus, knowing that she would always be there to guide him home. Since her departure, Mrs. Claus has taken the mantel as Christmas Director and comes to Cookie from time to time for advice.
Through it all Noella never let the position go to her head. No matter how much attention she received, Glacia was never in her shadow. She silently demanded that Glacia be her own person and was never known for or called Noella Wintera’s daughter. Raising her to be her own Elf and supporting her in anything she dared to try. So, when their eyes met, something was not quite right. In fact, it was hurting her baby girl.
Noella is quiet and opens her arms for Glacia to come closer. After the young elf moves in, she feels the comfort of her mother’s warm embrace as they hug for a few moments. Soon after her mother whispers, “busy elves need nourishment. Eat some dinner, THEN go to bed. This will help you in the morrow.”
Glacia sniffs and wipes her eyes when they stop hugging, “Maybe just a bowl of soup to take the chill off.”
“Funny you should mention chill. I made chili today.”
“If that is the case, I can eat two bowls to take the chill off.”
“I knew you would that, you love my chili.”
“Because it is delicious.”
They both laugh.
Two bowls of chili later, the sound of a spoon scraping the bottom of a bowl breaks the silence of the meal. Glacia can feel her mother’s eyes caress her with concern, waiting for the truth to venture forth and reveal itself, “this is possibly, no, definitely the best chili you have ever made,” she says licking her spoon with a smile.
“Thank you, child,” her mother expresses gathering the dishware to wash.
“Please,” Glacia says quickly while removing the dishes from her mother’s hands, “I’ll do this. You should finish your skirt.”
“Okay, but you’re going to tell me after, what has you all stressed out.”
“Before you finish or I finish?”
“Don’t play coy dear.”
“But - -”
“AND without buts, understood?”
“Yes, mother.”
An awkward few minutes float through the small home as Glacia washes the dishes with only the low crackle of firewood burning in the background as noise. Her mother is silent and rocking in her chair, nearly finished knitting the skirt.
Glacia walks into the living room and stands with her head hanging low. Her mother finishes the skirt and folds it, placing it neatly in her lap. She sighs and gently pats the small couch cushion next to her chair.
The respectful daughter sits on the edge of the cushion and smiles uncomfortably with her hands in her lap.
“Relax, my child. I am not the Peak Mother.”
“Yes..., of course.”
“Good. Now what has you so anxious that you would rather starve than eat? Is it the new position at work or - -”
Glacia’s reaction to her mother’s words betrays her protective demeanor when her mom mentions the words new position.
“Ah, so that is it,” her mother speaks tapping her daughter’s knee with the tips of her fingers, “well...,” she pauses, “out with it then.”
“I’d rather just let it be please.”
“Are you the only one that will be affected by letting it be?”
“No.”
“Why would you let it be then?”
“It’s already melted ice, mother. The other person’s results will stay the same.”
“Was this the result from a placement?”
“Yes.”
“Hmmm...,” Noella puts the knitted skirt off to the side and stands up, “this seems like something that needs to air before it hurts someone else,” she places her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and whispers, “like you.”
Glacia is silent.
“I’m going to make me another cup of tea. Would you like one as well?”
There is a slight pause then the younger elf responds softly, “yes please.”
“All right, I will be back in two shakes of a deer’s tail.”
Glacia smiles watching her mom work her magic, both in tea making and getting her daughter to talk when she would rather not.
Present Day
Making his way to the North Pole Personnel Department, Nixie pauses for a moment. His nose has caught the wonderous aroma of fresh baked, ooey-gooey sweet rolls from the best bakery in all the north pole, sELFies.
To pass up an opportunity to enjoy this rare time of year treat is considered disrespectful. So, he detours momentarily, but realizes he is heading away from his dream, “No,” he says turning back to his original purpose, “I’ll just get one later and apologize. I need to stay focused.”
“Nixie Snowball?” A voice questions from behind.
He turns to see a face he hasn’t seen in ages, “Ms. Wintera?”
She nods, “long time no see, Mr. Snowball. Where are you off to in such a hurry? I had to catch my breath to simply say hello.”
He returns the nod, “Apologies. I am off to the NPPD. I am finally being transferred to the Toy Making Department,” he says excited to share his wonderful news.
“Really,” she questions, then gathers herself, “I mean..., CONGRATULATIONS!”
“Thanks! I have been trying to make this happen for over two-hundred years.”
“Oh..., like how many times?”
“ELEVEN. Which is apparently a magic number.”
“Apparently so,” she says hiding her confusion with a smile.
Nixie smiles back, “maybe later, I mean, if you’re still here, you can join me at sELFies for an ooey-gooey sweet roll.”
“Sure, it would be nice to catch up,” she stops, “actually, I am waiting on a friend now, but maybe you can join us after your meeting.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“I guess I will see you later.”
“Okay, see you later,” Nixie voices happily returning to his task at hand.
Glacia’s face goes from happy to concern as she watches Nixie walk away, “Now how in the world did he pull that off?”
“How did who pull off what,” a female elf asks just walking up.
“Icelynn, glad you could make it,” Glacia speaks changing the subject.
“Who was that? From here he looks kinda cute.”
“How can you see how he looks from here?”
“One of my many gifts, Ms. Wintera.”
“Please call me Glacia. I haven’t been your mentor in a while. Just see me as an older colleague.”
“I can do that,” Icelynn says looking for a place for them to sit and chat, “but you never told me who he is.”
“He is a person I knew long ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
I didn’t know you liked younger Elves.”
“I don’t. My boyfriend is more than seventy-five years older than I am,” she pauses, “did you actually think I was interested in him romantically?”
“You did run after him.”
“You saw that?”
“I did. I saw you as I was walking up and stopped for a moment to tie a bow that was flying in my face. When I looked back up, you were running after him. So, I thought maybe you saw him as a cute Elf too.”
Glacia shakes her head.
“It okay to like younger Elves, Ms. Wintera. I mean, Glacia,” Icelynn giggles.
“Well, I do not and If you’re here later, he will be joining us here at sELFies.”
“Sugarplums! Sure, I can stay. Will you introduce us?”
“Of course,” Glacia says to keep the conversation moving along, “I have a feeling that he will need all the help he can get. When that snowball rolls uphill.”
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