The scent of gingerbread lingered in the hallway as I stopped by the kitchen.

“Santa!” Blanche hollered above the racket of a blender. “Good to see you.”  Grinning, the elf in charge of the kitchen walked over and gave me a hug. “Isn’t this fantastic? The section in my kitchen is finally set up for making gingerbread.”

“The smell of molasses and spices is making me hungry,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “Thought I’d drop by and help.”

“Really?” My wife appeared behind me complete with flour on her hands and nose. “So how do you think you can help us?”

“Well, I, um… could do some tasting,” I stammered. “You always do a test batch to make sure the ovens are in working order and the ingredients are the best.”

“True,” Blanch began, “but you’re not the only one looking forward to the gingerbread creations made in this kitchen. The elves are already signing up for their slot in the Great Gingerbread Bake-Off.”

“Every year I look forward to this contest held in November. There are so many family recipes. Some have been passed down for centuries and a few are older than my sleigh,” I chuckled.

“We know, dear.” Anya smiled. “Over the next two weeks the elves will be crafting their gingerbread recipes into various objects or designs.”

“Each treat will be unique,” Blanche explained. “For instance, gingerbread men remind us of energy, gingerbread women of kindness, and gingerbread stars of amazement. So, the blend of spices will match those purposes. Then when we bite into the cookie with that purpose, we should feel that sensation.”

“I didn’t know that,” I responded as I looked around, hoping to find some warm gingerbread.

“Of course not,” my wife began with a laugh. “All you’re interested in is eating them.”

“And you won’t be doing much of that this year,” Blanch calmly stated.

“WHAT!!”

“Remember when I told you about the elves cleaning up the theater and stage?” Ms. Claus began.

“Vaguely, but what does that have to do with gingerbread?” Impatient, I strolled around the kitchen in search of some cookies on cooling racks.”

“Well, Tinsel, your elf in charge of decorations in Christmas Village,” my wife continued, “came up with a new idea of having everyone create scenes for a Gingerbread Village. The elves would build their own gingerbread houses, shops, and even a gingerbread sleigh for Santa towed by miniature gingerbread reindeer.”

“On Thanksgiving, all of us will vote on who made the best gingerbread scene,” Blanch added.

“OK, but then we can eat the village, right?”

“Of course not, Santa,” Lyra laughed. Finished with wiping down the baking tables, she strolled over in my direction. “The Village will stay up until Christmas.”

“But why?” I whined, desperate for a gingerbread cookie.

“Santa!” Blanche exclaimed. “You should already know that elves see ginger as a symbol of life, warmth, and good luck. Having the village remain during our busiest time here at the North Pole will help to keep the elfin spirit strong.”

Anya walked over and patted my shoulder. “Think of it this way, dear, a robust attitude will give the elves the energy needed to work even harder.”

Stoking my beard, I thought about what had been said. “Hmm. I guess under those circumstances, it will be okay to leave the village up.”

When a buzzing noise from one of the stoves was heard, Lyra jumped up. She grabbed a towel and slid out two baking sheets of cookies. Setting them on racks, she turned proudly. “Isn’t the aroma amazing?”

Anya, Blanche, and I stood their mesmerized by an unusual fragrance.

“Aren’t they supposed to be gingerbread cookies?” wondered Blanche aloud.

“They are.”

Lyra’s quiet voice surprised all of us.

“This is a gingerbread recipe that has been in our family for centuries. I have tried to make it work, and this year I succeeded.” She handed Blanche, Anya, and I a cookie, keeping one for herself. “Wait a few more minutes till they cool.”

When the time was right, we each took a bite and savored the taste. “CHRISTMAS!” we yelled in unison.

“How is this possible?” I asked still overwhelmed by the scent and taste.

“I’m not sure.” Lyra looked puzzled as she tried to explain. “The recipe is so old that the story about how this cookie was created has been lost. All I know is that my great-great-grandmother finally gave it a name, Jouka. She took jou from the Finnish for Christmas- Joula and blended it with ka from taika which is Finnish for magic/magical. Jouka- Christmas Magic.”

“Elves are a unique people.” Blanche shook her head and savored her next taste of Jouka.

“Feeling the magic of Christmas from one bite of a cookie is wonderful. Makes me smile and want to give those closest to me…” She stopped and reached over to give me a hug. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

“Yes, dear, it does,” I replied and took another nibble. The flavor worked its way from my taste buds to my brain. Suddenly I felt the magic of Christmas. “Truly amazing. Lyra, you need to make these cookies year-round and send them out to as many people as possible.”

“I thought of that,” the elf replied. “But then the magic of Christmas would become ordinary.”

“Good point.” I reached over and gave Lyra a side hug. “Let’s keep Christmas special.”

Notes From Santa

I hope you enjoyed today’s story. Stories are posted on the 1^st and 3^rd Saturday of each month, except December. Santa’s next story will be posted on Saturday November 16, 2024.  If you have any comments or if there is something you would like me to tell you about, please feel free to leave me a comment. Until the next time . . .

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