Jingle Bells

Deep in the heart of the village of Oakhaven, where snow fell like powdered sugar and chimneys hummed with the scent of pine, lived an old woodworker named Silas.

While other villagers were wrapped in the rush of Christmas, with shiny boxes filled with gifts, Silas sat in his little workshop, working on a small piece of wood. The air smelled of wood, his plane me bed in rhythmically shush-shush like sleighs against snow. Unlike other years, this year, he wasn’t making toys; he was making something far more delicate.

On the other side of the road, just opposite the window to his workshop sat Elara in her room, gazing through the frost-edged window, watching him work. She'll let her eyes fall at intervals to the tiny birds huddled together for warmth in a corner of Silas' house. The faint jingle of a bell on Silas's shop door jingled, and the winds blew on it. The sound of the snow crunching against the feet of villagers passing by. Each had on them stacks of brightly wrapped packages, faces tight with smiles or the stress of finding the “perfect” gift.

But that wasn't what was bothering her. What bothered Elara the most was why Silas was shaping a plain wooden box that had no lock, no paint, and seemed to have no purpose. Other than toys she had known him for.

Her curiosity almost killing her, she made it out of her room and out of her house and walked over to Silas's shop. The bell above the doors jingled as Elara knocked on it. She waited until Silas answered the door before she stepped inside.

"Elara" Silas called as she walked back to his seat with the gait of an old man.

“I have been watching you work since, Mr Silas. What are you putting in there?” she asked, pointing to the small wooden box.

Silas sat down and looked up at Elara with a smile. In his eyes were slight crinkling like old parchment. “I am filling it with the only thing that doesn’t break, doesn’t rust, and never goes out of style,” he whispered.

Elara, curious, leaned closer to see for herself what was inside the box, but the box was empty.

“But it is empty?" She asked. Then her eyes lit up. "Oh, it is like a secret treasure hidden in the box. You have to find it?” she asked softly.

Silas shook his head still not letting go of his smile. “No, it is a gift for Clara, who lives at the edge of the woods. She has had a long, quiet year.”

Finally, he dropped his tools and heaved a sigh of relief, more like a signal that he was done. He stared at the box with so much admiration and closed the lid with a gentle click. Then he got up and grabbed his coat. Without a foil, or silk ribbon. Just the box pressed under his hand, he lifted a lantern. “Would you like to help me deliver the greatest gift of all?” he asked Elara who nodded in return.

Together, they walked through the village square, where the Great Christmas Tree stood dripping in silver ornaments, catching the sunlight like tiny bells. The Christmas rush was nothing like they had ever seen. People hurried past, clutching bags, checking lists, voices ringing like chimes.

“Look! Those gifts look heavy,” Elara sighed, pointing to a gift in a gift shop.

Silas hummed a low, peaceful tune that jiggled like sleigh bells in the snow. “You know Elara, a gift is only as heavy as the heart that gives it, Elara.”

"I don't understand, Silas.":

"Don't worry you'll understand soon" Silas added

They kept walking through a narrow path with trees towering and branches covered with blankets of snow.

At last, they reached a small cabin in the woods and Silas knocked. Soon an elderly woman opened the door. Inside was a home filled with nothing but emptiness. No tree, no tinsel, just the ticking of a clock and the soft scent of tea.

"Merry Christmas, Clara," Silas said, handing the box to her

With trembling hands Clara accepted the box. She slowly opened the lid, a smile curved on her face as she pressed it to her heart in appreciation. “Oh, Silas,” she whispered. “You remembered.”

Clara couldn't understand why she was happy. There was nothing inside it. Silas bid Clara goodbye and then turned back into the woods towards home.

Elara tilted her head. “Why was she so happy, Mr. Silas? There was nothing inside.”

Silas stopped and knelt in the snow, eyes level with Elara. “Christmas is about love. Love isn’t a thing you can see, Elara. I knew she wanted a box like that, I don't know why so I made her a box. The love is in the time I spent thinking of her while I carved the wood. The walk we took in this cold to make sure she got a gift at Christmas and that she wasn’t alone. That box wasn’t empty, it was full of reminders that she is loved.”

They returned just in time for Christmas Eve.

Later that night, Elara didn't wait to unwrap her toys under the Christmas tree. Instead, she sat in her room as 'jingle bell' played in the background, writing a letter to the lonely boy at the back of her classroom. Silas was right, She had no gold, no silver, only time and kindness. And enough to share.