Do you like
this article?
We send out articles like this one in our free weekly newsletter. The newsletter is written to motivate, inspire, educate, and entertain you.
To sign up, send us an email to Subscribe@TomorrowsEdge.net with the words "free motivational newsletter" in the subject line. We will be happy to add you to the list.
negative self-
How can I conquer my negativity and become a naturally positive person?
answers these questions
and more
Santa’s Elves
When I was a small child, I had no idea that I had anything weird or funny looking
about me. My stepmother informed me one day when I was about eight years old that
they were considering having plastic surgery done on me. She went on to explain
quite matter-
I have hidden my ears ever since. Even when I wear my long hair tied up, I always
make sure that it somehow covers my ears or at least camouflages them. Little wispy
curls and waves casually falling just in front of the ear do wonders to soften the
look and distract the eye from the actual ears that protrude out on the side. As
a teenager, I became quite obsessed with making sure that people did not see them.
My stepmother eventually made sure that I became aware of other flaws in my appearance
and in my personality. I spent a lifetime fixing and hiding them only to have her
or some other person point out yet another flaw to me. It is no wonder that I grew
up with the idea that at best I was ‘kind of cute’ some times. Even then, it took
a minimum of two hours in front of the mirror working on hair, makeup, and wardrobe
to design the perfect image. The nicest thing anyone would ever say to me after
all of that work was, “You look kind of cute. What’s the special occasion?” Such
was the foundation for my self-
This article is not about me and the journey I took from ugly duckling to the uniquely beautiful woman I see in the mirror today. This is actually about parenting and the way we project our own childhood dramas onto our children. We think that they will have the same gifts, the same goals, the same emotional pains, the same battle scars, the same approach to life that we had. We think they are miniature versions of ourselves, because they look so much like we did.
Both of my teenagers inherited my father’s ears from me. Yes, we are a family of Dumbos. My oldest boy can even wiggle his ears just like my father could. I never told them that they had funny ears or that they were anything less then beautiful in my eyes. I made sure to tell my children whenever anyone told me they too admired my darling children. I do my best to be the mother I wish I’d had, so I tell them they are wonderful. As a result, they did not know that they had funny ears. They always stood so proud and tall, never shirking and acting small. They never hid anything about themselves for fear that everyone was secretly pointing and laughing. I knew that one day they would be teenagers and they would critique themselves harshly enough. I also knew that the outside world would be cruel at times. When it happened, I was going to be compassionate and understanding. I was going to handle the situation with perfect motherly love and advice.
One morning in early December when my daughter was about six years old, we were standing together in front of an extremely large bathroom mirror. We were both fixing our hair, brushing out teeth, and such…. getting ready for the day. She suddenly stops brushing her hair and starts freaking out, “Look at me! Look at me! Just look at me! Do you see that?! Are you looking?!” She was in a complete panic and I had pretty much no idea why, so I calmly asked her what it was that I was supposed to be seeing. “My ears! Look at me ears! Don’t you see them?!” My chest tightened and it was all I could do not to gasp. I thought I would have a few more years to figure out my perfect response to this moment. I was completely unprepared and had absolutely no idea what to say. All I could think to myself was ‘think quick, you don’t want to scar her for life.’ Before I had a chance to say anything she snaps at me accusingly, “I’m an elf. Look at me! I’m an elf!” My mouth hung open for just a second before I calmly nodded and said, “Yes. Yes, you are.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Santa needs me! I need to hurry up and get to the North Pole!” She was adamant that she needed to get to Santa’s workshop and start helping along with the other elves. I explained to her that Santa had said that I could keep her and that she was a gift to me because I had been a really good girl. That’s why her birthday was supposed to have been on Christmas Eve, because she’s my Christmas Elf. She listened to me with that wise old woman look that she gets when it become clear to her that I have finally figured things out. Then without warning, she started screaming at the top of her lungs for her brother to come join us upstairs in the bathroom.
He had been watching a favorite video and was not in the mood to be bothered with her frivolous banter, but came upstairs nevertheless. She blurted out the entire story about how she was and elf and that Santa gave her to me and that was why she was not at the North Pole with the rest of the elves helping get the gifts ready for all of the other boys and girls. He took a long hard look at her ears and then bursts into tears. Upon asking him what was wrong, he told me how it was not fair that she always gets to be the cool one and not him. I had him stand in front of me facing the mirror and showed him his own ears. By ever so slightly tugging the tops up, they too looked just like elfin ears. He needed the verbal confirmation that he too was an elf and that Santa had specially given him to me as a gift also. “Yes, you were my first elf and I loved you so much that I wanted another elf and that’s when Santa gave me your sister, so I could have a matching set. And, you are both the very very best gifts anyone has ever given to me.”
For the next few years, they bragged about their elfin ears and how they were my special elves given to me by Santa himself. They held their heads high and with pride. It was a few years before they started to realize that it was just a genetic thing from my dad’s side of the family. Neither of them has ever cried or bothered to hide their ears since that day. When the Lord of the Rings movies came out, we all commented on how much my oldest boy resembles the elf warrior played by Orlando Bloom.
My daughter taught me that those things that make us different are the things that make us special. I had heard it said, but I had never seen it put into practice before that morning. They really are my magical little elves. Thank you Santa.
Copyright 2004, Skye Thomas, Tomorrow’s Edge