First, you must hold on to your sense of humor. By keeping your jollies active, you can deal with all the pressures and excitement of the days ahead. Knick Knacks practical jokes certainly help with that!
Second, remember that not all good children get gifts, perhaps because no one can help them write to Santa or, even sadly, because no one cares. The third and most important lesson is that you need to lend a hand to others, as Knick Knack and all the birds and animals do, so that all children have a chance for a merry Christmas. In return, you get the greatest gift of allyou are needed!
Fifty percent of the proceeds from the sale of this book will benefit the Alzheimers Foundation of America (AFA).
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Read an Excerpt
Once upon a time in Santa Claus Land, North Pole, there lived an elf named Knick Knack. He got his name from the sound his bright red hammer made whenever he pounded a piece of wood. If you listened long enough the mallet noise became a tune: knick, knack, knick, knack. Sometimes the other elves would sing along to the beat. Knick Knack was as fat and red of nose as Santa himself, but alas, he was only one foot tall. Knick Knack was happy, generous and kind just as all the people at Santa Claus Land are obliged to be, but as so many of us, he had a fault. He loved to play practical jokes. Now everyone knows elves are supposed to be serious and hardworking. Knick Knack was indeed good at his job and he worked hard. He tried and tried to be serious and settle down, but unfortunately, when an opportunity presented itself, poor little Knick Knack took off.
Monday he mixed up the colors in the dolls paint jars. All the golden haired babies had red eyes and green noses and the toy soldiers wound up with purple moustaches.
Tuesday night when all the elves were sleeping Knick Knack sewed up their sleeves. Elves sleep VERY soundly! The next morning not a single elf could get undressed or dressed. They couldn't even turn the knob to open the door to call Santa or worse yet, they couldn't eat breakfast!
But the last straw was the day Knick Knack put pepper in the reindeer's food. Every time they sneezed, Santa would fall out of the sleigh. Luckily, Santa is very amplify padded and he always landed on a cloud.
"Something must be done, Santa," steamed Fuss the chief elf. "He's ruining morale. All the elves laugh instead of toil. Today he put tacks on my high stool! It took three elves all morning to get the tacks out of my -- um- um- me. I've had to do all my jobs standing up -- and at my age I like to do my chores sitting down!!"
Santa couldn't help but smile at the thought of Fuss jumping from a stool covered with tacks, but he hid it kindly with a cough. "What do you suggest, Fuss?"
"We must teach Knick Knack a lesson -- for his own good, of course," Fuss drew himself up importantly. "Perhaps if you would take him to earth before Christmas, after Thanksgiving maybe, and see if he could accomplish something -- do a good, honest day's labor without any foolishness. Then he could come back." Having given this advice, Fuss plopped into a chair only to jump up again. His seat was still a little tender.
Santa nodded thoughtfully, "We'll see, Fuss. We'll see." After much thought, and walking back and forth, Santa agreed with Fuss. That is how Knick Knack came to be set down on the edge of Covered Bridge Farms the day after Thanksgiving. Santa gave Knick Knack a sack lunch, a set of tools, a big hug and took off quickly, for no one should see Santa before Christmas, especially when he is blowing his nose and wiping a tear from his eye.
Knick Knack looked about himself with interest. The trees were still green, quite different from the snow-clad fields of Santa Claus Land. Poor, dejected Knick Knack sat down on a tree stump to have some lunch. He was ready to take a bite of last year's Christmas fruit cake, the elves didn't like it and a lot was always left over, when he heard voices. He scooted behind a large gooseberry bush just as two children came down the road.
"Do you really think we won't get anything for Christmas again this year? I've certainly been good." Karl asked his sister.
Karen smiled at him, "You'll get one present -- from me -- I'm making it myself."
"Isn't that just like a dumb girl," thought Karl. "I want toys and stuff and she's probably knitting me something that won't fit and be some sissy color!" But his little sister looked so happy he didn't say anything, he just frowned at his shoes.
"This year Papa has a job, and we have food enough for all winter and fire wood and Mama is better. So we don't need any more," Karen started to hum.
In spite of himself, Karl felt better. "You're a good person, Karen. I know you want a doll or dishes as much as I want a soldier or a sled. I promise I won't complain again." Arm-in-arm they walked back up the road.(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Knick Knack"
Copyright © 2018 Clella Bay Murray.
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