Shelf life to elf life!

Posted: December 17, 2015 in Uncategorized
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Being an elf is hard sometimes

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    I was born to two amazing people thirty-two years ago. We spent most of our lives in a small town next to the north pole. As a child I wanted to be a part of the big man in the suit. My life would be complete if one day I was offered a job with Santa clause. I wouldn’t even care if the job was to wash his sleigh every year, that is all I want. I want to be able to say that the most magical man noticed me, I want my story to be like Rudolph’s.
In school I was always picked on, all due to the fact that I am a certified “Little person.” Yes I am only 3’2. I wasn’t able to play sports because I was too slow. My legs were too small for Basketball, and I couldn’t see above the lineman for football. I had no other talents other than art. But my dream to become an artist was cut short, my teacher was someone that hated “little people” so my art could be better than anyone else in the class, yet he would say that it wasn’t good enough. My final was a sculpture of Rudolph. The detail was so deep, I spent hours making the fur that a reindeer would have. I had faith that nothing would stop the teacher from giving me an A+.
I walked into the class room with the sculpture tightly in my arms. The whole day all of my friends were in Awe of the beauty of my talent. They were trying to buy it from me, but even the most money in the world wouldn’t be enough, this piece of art was for one purpose. The purpose was to get my teacher to overlook my physical being and see the heart that I had for art. I walked to my table, and jumped up on the seat, I was patiently waiting for the professor to tell me to present, but he never did. He skipped over me and went to the next person in line. I thought it was because he oversaw me, but as I started to believe that he wasn’t going to forget me. He began to teach the next lesson in class. This was after everyone in class had presented their projects. All thirty-five kids had their shot at fame in this class. But yet again, I was forgotten. But I wasn’t going to give up. I will have my five minutes of fame. But more, I will have my chance to hear the professor congratulate me on doing such a fine job.
“Sir, You forgot me.” My voice echoed off the walls, as the rest of the class stopped their group conversations. The teacher raised his eye-brow at me. He seemed to be irritated that I said something. But he simply rolled his eyes and lifted his hand at me. “Go, Rich. You have five minutes.” My heart began to sing a song of nervousness. There was a thunderstorm going through my body as I grabbed my sculpture and made my way to the podium. I got half way through the classroom before I felt the first sweat drop off my head onto my soggy arm. My hands were moist from the sweat, I began to lose grip off the statue, but before dropping it on the ground, I regained my composure.
I got to the podium and began to present the project to the class. They were truly in awe of the talent that was placed into this project. I heard the sounds of gasp that they were letting out as I told them the features of the reindeer. Such as the fact that it can move, or that the eyes blink. But the thing they loved the most was the detail of the fur. But I wasn’t satisfied still. I wanted to hear the teachers opinion. I looked towards his desk, and I saw what broke my heart, he was asleep. He quickly woke up and looked at me. “Are you done? Good!” He got up and wrote something on the letter and stuck it to my project. He then pushed me towards my chair. There was a tear that formed in the corner of my eye, it quickly rolled down my cheek.
I got back to my chair and opened up the letter that he placed on Rudolph. “Give up art, you have no style.” The words broke my heart, I wanted to leave the room, so I got up from my chair and grabbed the Reindeer off the desk. I got to the door before the teacher noticed. “Sit back down!” I had the door already open, but I was about to tell him how I felt. But I couldn’t speak so I turned back around to walk away. As I rotated to the door, the solid wood door slammed against me. Pieces of my hard work fell violently to the ground, breaking into smaller pieces. My eyes swelled in hatred as the waterworks fell from my eyes. I ran all the way home that day, crying the whole way home.
When I got home, I began to throw all of my older projects at the wall, but when it came to my most recent project, I stopped. I picked it up from my desk and looked in his eyes. “Santa, I wanted to make you proud. I made over a thousand toys, cookies, and gingerbread houses. This was all to gain your attention. I thought maybe if I made a Rudolph sculpture, I could be noticed by my teacher, which then could tell you about me. But he hated it. I don’t know what else I can do. I give up.”
As I said that my dream was over. The window to my room blew open with forceful snowy-winds that began to rip my posters off my wall. I tried to get up to the window, but I kept falling from the gusting winds. I fell hard to the ground, but as I was on my back, I looked up into the snow. The snow was forming a funnel cloud. I was in the middle of my first snow tornado. But as the winds began to swirl, the snow began to turn different colors. Then all of a sudden the winds stopped and the window slammed shut. I looked all around my room and saw nothing. But then as I looked back to the window, there my hero stood. Santa Clause was in my room, and he had a special message for me.
“Now Richy. I have always noticed you. I was just waiting for you to have faith in yourself as strong as the faith that you have in me. I have something special to ask you. You have great talent, and I need that this year. I lost a few of my elves to the shelves of America. I need a few magical elves that I can trust to deliver great toys. Will you help me?”
That night changed my life forever. I would like to say that I saved Christmas, but that is way to big for an elf to say. I helped majorly though, and now I have the right to say that I am Santa’s’ main elf. I just had to have faith in myself, something that I never had. That is all Santa wants, is a few young men and women to have faith in their selves.  You never know, maybe Santa needs you this year.

Impromtdude @ Facebook.com/impromtdude

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