Long before there was an Elf on the Shelf

Once upon a time there was a lady by the name of Patsy with very discerning taste.  She proudly eschewed the 'tacky' and embraced the classy.  Once in a while however, particularly when it came to Christmas, her cheese-o-meter would fail her.

One year Patsy accepted delivery of a lovely Christmas arrangement from her sister-in-law.  Replete with red bows and evergreens, it was a fitting nod to the season.  Not surprisingly given the source, tucked into the centerpiece and wired to a green stick, was this charming fellow:

In his later years

Well, Patsy was thrilled.  Promptly placing the festive basket of greenery on the foyer table, it immediately took a place of pride in her home.  Not only was the arrangement a lovely addition to that year's decor, but every visitor was welcomed by this cheery fellow perched among the sprigs.

When her youngest daughter returned from college that year, she saw the arrangement immediately.  Initially surprised that Patsy had included what amounted to a dopey plastic elf dressed in nasty acrylic in the household decor, she quickly forgot about the little guy as she glided through the holiday season, much as she closeted thoughts of final exams and essays.

Having received similar gifts for Christmases past from her sister-in-law, each January Patsy followed the same routine.  She would wait a little too long, and then dispose of the dried out fire hazard centerpiece.  Now, Patsy was also a thrifty woman, so before the big heave-ho, she would squirrel away her favorite little decorations (often wired to green florist sticks) for future use in her own wreaths and arrangements.  She tucked myriad little bows, tinselly wreaths, and clumps of faux red berries into a giant ziplock bag and stored them away until the following winter.

Each year, to the surprise of her youngest daughter, that elf would reappear.  Sometimes on an overly decorated wreath over the mantle.  Sometimes in an arrangement in the dining room.  But without fail, each Christmas season the jolly imp--stick jammed up his ass and all--was featured somewhere in Patsy's holiday decor. Each year, the elf got a bit grubbier and a little more threadbare.  And without fail, when the holidays were over, he would be packed up with all of Patsy's Christmas ornamenture, safe and sound until his reappearance the following December.

The years passed, and eventually Patsy died.  Her loving children came together to attend to her personal belongings and divided up the holiday decorations.  Pieces of Patsy's holiday decor went with each child, except for the the two giant plastic bags filled with cheesy decorations Patsy rescued from the holiday floral arrangements that her sister-in-law had sent over the years.  Those were put in the donate/trash pile.

Inside those bags, poked and prodded by the florists sticks, waited the bedraggled elf.  The youngest daughter, managed to rescue the once-blonde little guy from his certain end at the landfill and brought him home with some of the more tolerable ornaments that Patsy had treasured over the years.

The first Christmas after Patsy died, the daughter came across the elf and tucked him into a kissing ball on her front porch.  Each time she passed by she outwardly smiled to see him, but inwardly ached from missing her mother. When the holidays ended, she resisted the urge to keep every last decoration on the kissing ball, tucking away only the now, very seriously, peaked imp.

Today the elf is filthy, his hair almost gone.  His legs are all bent up and he's got random glitter stuck to his hat.  But each Christmas, as he has for more than twenty years, the elf reappears.

He's not spying on anyone looking for good behavior.  He's not leaving and returning to a new spot hoping to be found each day.  I'm quite sure he doesn't report anything to anyone.   He's just hanging out (this year with Patsy), as a tacky reminder of various, merry Christmases Past.

He's not saying a word...