The Christmas goblin

Content note: banishment, beer

Plans

I don’t know who started the rumors that Santa Claus has a workshop at the North Pole. I also don’t know who first claimed that little elves and goblins build toys there all year round so that Santa can give them to children.

But whoever it was, it was either a good guess or someone who had been there before.

Gnulf was an ordinary little goblin who grew up with his parents up at the North Pole. His parents designed and built toys for Santa Claus, as did almost all the goblins at the North Pole. Some took care of the reindeer, others helped in the kitchen or with travel planning, but most of them made toys. After all, a lot of toys were needed for a real Christmas. And Gnulf came from an old family of goblins who had all made toys. His grandparents had done it, and so had their parents and grandparents and their parents and grandparents. And before that, there had been no workshop at the North Pole. Goblins live for quite a long time.

Whenever Gnulf asked himself what he wanted to be when he grew up, the answer was “toy maker”. Apart from Gnulf himself, nobody asked him that, because at the North Pole they didn’t ask such questions. There was no talking hat to tell you what you should become. But in the end, it was the boss himself who decided. He could see what the goblins and elves were best at or preferred to do. As a result, he always knew who belonged where.

On the one hand, this meant that everyone had a task that suited them perfectly, but it also meant that very little ever changed. Which some liked, and others didn’t question, because it had always been like that. But for Gnulf, the only important thing was that he would be allowed to become a toymaker, whatever the reason.

If everything had turned out as Gnulf had wished, then I wouldn’t have a story to tell now; or maybe I would have another story, but not this one. But instead of praising the little goblin for his zeal and appointing him a toy maker, Santa just looked at him sadly and shook his head.

“It’s not often that I see someone here who does not know the true meaning of Christmas. But I don’t see any of that within you. I see pride and I see ambition. And while both are good, they’re not enough.”

Gnulf stared at the boss, completely stunned; Santa sighed.

“I want you to go out into the world and find the meaning of Christmas. When you’re ready, you can come back, and we’ll see what you’ll become. But until then, the workshop will be closed to you.”

Dazed, Gnulf stood up, turned around slowly as if in a dream, and walked out the door.

He didn’t stop when his mother spoke to him, and he didn’t stop when he walked through the hall and was asked by the others what the boss had decided. He didn’t stop when he reached the large ornamental door, into which a smaller one had been inserted, which was much easier to seal against the snow. The guards opened the small door for him and Gnulf went out into the white world, the snow and the loneliness.

Then he stopped and watched the snowflakes dance, but the sight brought him no joy. He barely felt the cold and didn’t realize that his toes were getting as numb as his insides felt at the moment.

“Maybe you shouldn’t just run off like that,” said one of the guards, who had stepped out through the door behind him.

Gnulf turned around. “But I can’t go back inside.” The guard nodded. “I know the workshop is closed to you. Even now. But the boss suspected you would react like this, and prepared a backpack for you.”

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t want anything to happen to you. He wants you to be well. He wants you to find what you’re looking for and come back, I suppose,” the guard said. “And that’s all easier if you don’t freeze or starve to death.”

The guard handed Gnulf a coat and boots in addition to the pack. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“But where am I supposed to go? I don’t know anyone out here!” Gnulf only knew the world from stories and the plans for the Christmas journey, and these were certainly not reliable sources.

“The world is full of life. You’ll be fine,” said the guard encouragingly.

“But I don’t have a home anymore,” sniffled Gnulf. The guard looked at him half-sternly, half-sympathetically. “You’ll always have a home. You just can’t visit it right now. And it’s up to you to change that. Now get going, you want to be back soon!”

So Gnulf set off. Somewhere. How long could it take a Christmas goblin to find the meaning of Christmas?

Search

It took longer than expected.

Every goblin learns how not to stand out among people. After all, it’s always possible that the sleigh will break down and someone will have to call for help. But that’s just a trick. A goblin can look like a human to people, but that’s down to people’s perception. That’s why it doesn’t always work with children, they see and believe what they want, not what they should. It doesn’t make the goblin any bigger. The snow doesn’t get flatter, the path doesn’t get shorter. And Gnulf, like every goblin, had short legs.

After a few days, the little goblin had found the first people, then a village, a town, and a crossroads. And he thought about what the idea of Christmas could be. What was it all about? Wherever he went, he listened carefully to what people were saying, what they wished for, what they wanted, what they thought about Christmas. Most of them didn’t seem to think much about it. After all, it was still early in the year. But Christmas was something like a birthday. And people talked about birthdays all year round. That would be a good place to start, Gnulf thought.

When people talked about Christmas or other birthdays, it was usually about presents. And about food. Gnulf decided to focus on the wishes and find a common denominator, but hardly any two people wanted the same things. After many months, the little goblin almost wanted to give up, but he realized what most wishes had in common: they were about balance. Gifts for others had to be appropriate, he was always told. Every gift had to be reciprocated. The type and size of the gift depended on the relationship between the people and what had been given in the previous year. So, it was less about what was given, or how, but how much.

It took a while before Gnulf was able to form this realization into a Christmas thought, and so a whole year passed before he arrived back at the North Pole to look for the guard there.

Just a thought

A flurry of snow and a cold wind stirred up the white world. Gnulf could only dimly make out the dark figure standing motionless in the drifting flakes. As he came closer, he recognized the guard who was waiting for him. But instead of greeting Gnulf cheerfully, the guard shook her head. “You’re too early,” she said.

“But I’ve found the meaning of Christmas,” said Gnulf. “And I’ve been away far too long.”

Dejected, Gnulf made his way back into the world. On the way to the first settlement, he pondered the whole time about what the guard had said. He brooded at the crossroads, which he took for a different destination this time. The part of the world he already knew had not been the right place.

New attempt

“Look who we have here,” said a voice behind Gnulf, as he sat in a pub bemoaning his fate after weeks of fruitless searching. He was still no closer to the so-called meaning of Christmas. He almost had an idea, but it always remained just out of reach. It had just slipped away again when the voice had distracted him, and Gnulf turned around a little sullenly. Then he paused.

“Looks like we surprised him,” said the owner of the voice that had startled him out of his thoughts.

“I agree,” grinned her companion. Gnulf had never seen them before, but somehow, they looked familiar. He narrowed his eyes to look beyond what he could see. And indeed, the two were not human. They were goblins like him, just trying not to stand out among the humans.

“Have you been banished too?” he asked excitedly. If he was no longer alone on his quest, perhaps that would help.

“Banished?” one goblin asked. “From where?”

Gnulf looked at her in astonishment. “From where do you think? From Santa’s workshop!”

The two goblins were silent for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Santa’s workshop, Larf, did you hear that?” the goblin chortled.

Her companion also wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s probably at the North Pole, isn’t it?” he asked.

“And goblins work there with the elves and look after the reindeer,” she giggled.

Gnulf was stunned. “What’s so funny about that?” he asked, when the two of them had calmed down a bit.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” asked Larf.

Gnulf nodded.

“But they’re just stories…” the goblin began, but Larf interrupted her. “Some stories are true, Prenna. Maybe it’s more than just a fairy tale.”

Prenna sat down at the table with Gnulf and looked at him sternly. “Now tell us everything from the beginning. And don’t you spin us no yarn, or there will be trouble.”

While Gnulf was talking, Larf also sat down. Both listened spellbound as Gnulf described things they only knew from their parents’ bedtime stories. When Gnulf had finished, he looked at the two of them expectantly. “And how did you get here?”

Larf and Prenna looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “We live near here, always have. Our parents said they came from Santa’s workshop, but we never believed them. That just sounds too crazy.” Larf looked a little apologetic at the last sentence, but Gnulf just nodded. It was a bit crazy, after all. As far as he could tell, no one over the age of twelve believed there was a Santa Claus, let alone a workshop at the North Pole. He had seen a few movies about it, but they really hadn’t been documentaries. Blitzen was a pretty stupid name for a reindeer.

“Suppose we believed you,” Prenna began, “how could we help you, and what’s in it for us?”

But Gnulf didn’t want any help from strangers, even if they were goblins. “I’ll have to do this alone, I’m afraid. But it’s nice to know that there are distant relatives here. Perhaps you can explain a few things to me that I don’t understand about the world out here?”

And so Larf and Prenna explained what a career was, and how insurance worked, and tried to explain to Gnulf what the stock market was all about. They let it go when he asked if the stock market was like a wheel of fortune. That was close enough.

After a rather long evening, Gnulf shook his head in confusion and said: “How am I supposed to find the meaning of Christmas in a world like this?” But Larf and Prenna promised that it wasn’t like this everywhere.

A different view

Over the next few weeks, the two showed him places and people that had not renounced materialism completely, but had found a balance between themselves and others, and made sure that they were doing well as well as helping others. And these were often not the grand gestures like Doctors Without Borders or homeless shelters or charities. They were often simply individual people who were there for the people in their lives, who treated others with care or who had an organ donor card. People who were willing to reach out to others.

And Gnulf understood where he had gone wrong the first time.

He set off north again to find the guard and return home. Larf and Prenna had offered to accompany him, but after his first hopeful attempt Gnulf wasn’t sure if he was right this time and didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the only people he knew and liked in this world. “I’ll come and get you when everything is clear,” he promised.

So the two goblins were not surprised when he turned up at the pub where they had first met. But the cheerful “welcome” went unsaid.

“It’s not about giving others something of yourself,” Gnulf only said as he sat down. That was all that was necessary, because Larf and Prenna had been able to tell from the look in his eyes when they saw him. Gnulf was not allowed to go home. And even if the idea of Santa’s workshop still seemed completely absurd to both of them, they had realized that Gnulf really believed in it and that it was important for him to be allowed to go home again. And it didn’t matter whether it was a big workshop or a craft room in the basement and whether he worked for Santa Claus or IKEA. A home was important, no matter what it looked like to others.

“You’ll definitely make it next time,” Prenna said, while Larf went to get beer for everyone.

Gnulf shrugged his shoulders. “If it’s not about balance, as I first thought, and not about giving, then what is it about? What else happens at Christmas?”

Larf put the large jug down on the table. “Maybe it’s about love?” he asked, as he adjusted his chair.

Prenna giggled.

“What? Love is important, and Christmas is the season of love. So why shouldn’t it be about that?”

But Gnulf shook his head. “If it was about love, then it would be a bit too easy, wouldn’t it?”

“Who says it has to be hard?” asked Larf.

Another thought

Soon the three of them set off – albeit not directly, as Larf and Prenna had to pack a few things first. “North Pole” sounded cold.

And what had sounded cold to the two of them turned out to be even colder. Prenna was now wearing everything she had packed, one layer on top of another, and they had only just left behind the last stretch for which there was still a means of transportation. From here on, they had to walk.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the last hamlet to wait for me?”

But Prenna and Larf were sure. Yes, it was cold. Really cold. But you don’t leave a friend alone. Especially not when, despite everything, you have to reckon with the fact that he might need help. If it wasn’t about love, then Gnulf could certainly use a friend. Or two.

It took a long time. It was probably only a few days, but Larf would have sworn it was weeks. Prenna could barely remember what feet actually felt like. But they both pulled themselves together as best they could. It had been their idea to come along, and now they had to go through with it. Gnulf had said from the start that it would be cold.

Although Prenna had not thought she had enough strength left, she took a big leap backwards when the snow suddenly parted in front of her and a shadowy figure became visible.

“You again?” the guard asked. “And with backup this time?” She narrowed her eyes. “Do I know you?” She turned sternly towards Larf and Prenna and raised her staff threateningly. “Even the three of you can’t get past me.”

“We don’t know each other,” Larf spoke up, taking a small step forward – not enough to get too close to the guard, but enough to put himself between her and Prenna. “We’re friends with Gnulf and just wanted to accompany him on the way. We don’t want to pass anywhere.”

“Although wherever this ‘anywhere’ might be, it’s probably warmer than here,” Prenna muttered.

The guard relaxed a little. “All right, I was beginning to think the kid had given up and was going to try some trickery.” Shaking her head, the guard turned to Gnulf. “So you want to try again?”

Gnulf nodded.

“And you’re sure?”

Gnulf nodded again. “But that doesn’t mean anything. I was sure the last few times.”

“Go on then.”

Gnulf took a deep breath. “And what happens if it’s wrong again?”

“Then I’ll send you away again.”

“And then what?”

“Then I’ll wait until the next time you come. Or don’t come. There’s no limit to how many times you can try. There’s only a limit to how many times you can stand to be disappointed.”

Gnulf nodded. “At some point, I might give up. But not just yet.”

He looked at Larf and Prenna. “I think –” he began, and chuckled. “No, that’s not right. We think Christmas is about love.”

“Wouldn’t that be a bit simple?” the guard asked.

“Doesn’t it have to be something simple so that everyone can understand it?”

The guard laughed. “There’s something to it. But like your other ideas, while it’s a good start, it’s not the meaning of Christmas.”

“Why not?” asked Prenna.

“But shouldn’t it be?” came from Larf almost simultaneously.

“I don’t make the rules,” said the guard. But the two goblins weren’t going to back down so easily. Gnulf looked too sad for that.

“If it’s a good start, why aren’t three good starts enough? That’s more than some others bring to the table. And Gnulf has certainly given the question more thought than most.”

The guard nodded. “But is it a good sign if he has to think about it so much and yet can’t find the meaning of Christmas, while others have it in their hearts without a second thought?”

Prenna became thoughtful, but Larf was not so easily swayed. “Carrying something in your heart because it’s there, that’s easy. Trying to find something that isn’t just there, not giving up, continuing to search, even if it’s hard – that has value, too,” he grumbled at the guard.

But Gnulf put a hand on his shoulder.

“Give it a rest, Larf. She doesn’t make the rules. I’m sure she’d rather let everyone go home who wants to go home. Having to send others away is certainly no fun.”

“Then why does she do it?” asked Prenna.

“Because it’s her job,” said Gnulf.

“Can’t you just ask her to let us in anyway? It’s really cold,” said Prenna.

Gnulf thought for a moment. “Maybe I can do that.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” the guard warned. “The limits of my discretion are rather tight.”

“Can you have too much hope?” asked Gnulf, smiling. “Besides, I’m not asking you to bend the rules. I’m not allowed to go home, that’s for sure. But no one said Prenna and Larf weren’t allowed in the workshop. They’re not banned.”

The guard nodded. “That’s right.”

“But we’re not going alone!” cried Larf.

“That’s up to you,” said the guard.

“It won’t help anyone if we all freeze,” said Gnulf. “You go on ahead. I’ll join you at some point.”

Larf hesitated. “I don’t dare go alone. I don’t know anyone there.”

“You know me,” said Prenna.

“And my parents will be happy to see you and hear from me,” Gnulf added. He reached into his pocket and took out the carved locomotive. “Give this to my mother. Then she’ll know you’ve met me.”

“Still,” Prenna insisted. “Dear honorable guard, can’t you please let Gnulf go home after all?”

“Not until he’s found the meaning of Christmas.”

“Let it go, Prenna. I’ll find the meaning of Christmas. Warm yourselves up first and we’ll meet again – if you still want to – in the next village. There was an inn there where I can wait.” His voice softened. “But you don’t have to. It’s my quest, after all…”

Prenna and Larf hit Gnulf with their snowballs at about the same time. “Sure, we’ll come with you again. You’re lost on your own,” said Larf.

“But first we’ll take a look at this workshop so that we know whether it’s worth the effort. Besides, your mother is probably already worried about you. I’d be worried if I thought you were traveling alone,” Prenna joked.

Gnulf swallowed. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you. And if I’m honest, I don’t deserve to come home already, either. I still have a lot to learn about Christmas. I’ve always taken it for granted that Christmas exists. But that’s not the case out in the world. You have to do something for it to happen.

“Christmas doesn’t just happen because it’s the right time of year. Christmas happens because people get involved.

“Because they find the courage to hope. Because they find the compassion to give. And because they muster the trust to accept something given to them. Which is sometimes much harder, because you have to admit that you need support.”

The guard smiled: “Now you’re looking in the right place.”

Gnulf was puzzled. “But I didn’t go anywhere, did I?”

“You didn’t have to go anywhere. You only had to look in your heart. Where everyone is carrying their own idea of what Christmas means. Welcome home.”

After that

And with that, the little goblin had actually made it and was allowed back into Santa’s workshop to show his friends around his home.

If anyone wants to know whether he then became a toymaker, I can answer that. He didn’t. Nor did he stay in the workshop at the North Pole forever. Gnulf, Prenna and Larf have often gone out into the world to help others find their very own meaning of Christmas.

Because sometimes it takes a little goblin for someone to listen to their own heart again. Or a squirrel. But that’s not such a big difference.