By Morgan J. Manns

“Five minutes to midnight, folks!” I called out, my voice echoing in the grand workshop. “Get your lists ready and stretch those fingers. It’s going to be a wild ride!”

Black Friday was nearly the busiest day of the year, second only to Christmas. As Head Elf of the Technology Department, I had transformed the massive toy-making workshop into mission control for the chaotic event. Every elf came together to find great deals on toys.

My boots jingled as I walked between the long workshop tables, nodding reassuringly to each elf as they opened their laptops.

“Remember the good ol’ days? Before this log-in nonsense?” I heard an elf mumble. I turned to see Jerry sitting hunched over his laptop. He and Jim—both senior elves from the Hand-Made Department—were seated at a table and seemed to be struggling with their passwords.

I pretended to scroll on my tablet and listened in.

“You know. Back when every elf was makin’ toys by hand, Jim! Those were the days, eh?”

Jim peered at his laptop as he tugged on his beard. “Aye, Jer, I remember. But when’s the last time a kid asked for a wooden truck? Now it’s all ’bout these here plastic contraptions.”

“Made by machines and conveyor belts,” Jerry added.

I winced. Did every elf feel this way? Or was it just these two, stuck in the past, unable to see the benefits of bulk shipping?

Jim continued, “There was somethin’ special when we painted each toy and knew exactly who it was for—little Joyces and Eldons. Things felt simpler then.”

A memory stirred. Every elf is required to learn from seasoned mentors before discovering their niche. A smile crept across my face as I remembered my first time in the Hand-Made Department, stitching a bear together with my own two hands. Though my heart belonged to technology and streamlined operations, there was an undeniable magic in creating something from nothing.

The other elf tapped his screen with a finger. “D’ya think we’ll ever go back to that?”

Jim sighed. “Nah, I haven’t seen a ‘Joyce’ on my list in ages. You seen what they’re namin’ kids nowadays? Fruits and flowers, for goodness’ sake!”

“Not the names, ya old coot! I mean, do ya think we’ll go back to makin’ every toy ourselves? With our own hands? None of this outsourcin’ nonsense.”

Jim took off his spectacles, polishing them on his green button-up shirt while his eyes narrowed at the screen like it was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. “Ah, Jer, yer dreamin’. There’s no way we’ll go back to that. The kiddies want more than we can make with our own hands.”

It was true. The demand for toys had skyrocketed, and wish lists were longer than ever. We simply didn’t have the elfpower to fill Santa’s iconic red sack with hand-made items.

“A shame,” Jerry muttered. “Kids took better care of their toys when they only got a couple.”

I found myself nodding along when my watch buzzed. I jumped, realizing there were only two minutes left. I stepped up to the two elves. “Having trouble logging in?”

Jerry looked up, his rosy cheeks stretching into a wide grin. “Paul, just in time! My memory’s not what it used to be—forgot my password again.”

I did a quick search and found his name. “Candycane_1762,” I said.

“Ah, right! Thanks, lad. Thought I had hot chocolate in there somewhere.”

Jim laughed. “Stop makin’ me thirsty, Jer! Wait—hot chocolate is my password!” He typed it in with two stiff fingers.

I smiled and shook my head before heading to the upper level. The large clock at the top of the spiral staircase ticked closer to midnight. I opened my laptop and typed in my credentials, but Jerry and Jim’s conversation replayed in my mind.

The midnight chime sounded, and I hesitated amidst the flurry of typing elves below. I stared at my hands. When was the last time these were used for something beyond typing and scrolling?

Abandoning my laptop, I walked over to a table and picked up a needle and thread. After I found a name on my list, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Decision made, I got lost in the rhythm of sewing.

***

Hidden by my dust of invisibility, I sat on the mantel, my feet swinging among the stockings. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, and excitement bubbled in my chest. I told myself I was here for market research. But really, I wanted to see—

“Mom, Dad, wake up! It’s Christmas!” a little girl’s voice called out. I crossed my feet and waited.

Melanie, with a ruffled ponytail atop her head, skidded to a stop when she saw the living room. She gasped, her eyes wide at the pile of presents under the tree. Two bleary-eyed parents followed suit.

Her mother yawned. “Are you ready to open presents?”

Melanie nodded vigorously. Skipping toward the tree, she selected gifts for her parents first, placing them at their feet. Then, she excitedly opened her own—a makeup kit, a shiny dollhouse, and a slew of little plastic playthings.

Melanie picked up the gift I had wrapped for her. Eyes twinkling, she carefully removed the sparkling bow and tore the red and gold paper, revealing a hand-stitched doll with yellow-yarn hair.

Her parents exchanged puzzled looks. I had taken a chance, swapping the plastic doll she wanted for a handmade one.

“Do you like it, Melanie?” her dad asked, leaning closer.

“She’s perfect!” Melanie exclaimed, hugging the doll to her chest and settling between her parents.

Relief washed over me.

As the family admired my craftsmanship, I thought that maybe the old elves were right. Perhaps it wasn’t about the quantity of gifts, but the love and care that went into them.

I felt a lightness in my chest. My market research was complete. Maybe next year, we wouldn’t have to worry about remembering so many passwords.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Morgan J. Manns is a speculative fiction writer who firmly believes that the world needs more stories filled with magic and wonder. Captivated by the realm of intricate world-building since composing her first fantasy tale at the age of ten, she now ventures beneath the endless Canadian prairie sky with her supportive husband and two hobbit children, all while eagerly contemplating her next literary creation. While her current occupation is that of an elementary school teacher, her dream job will always be dragon rider, soaring through the skies of her imaginings.

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