The lights in the sanctuary are turned off and it is very dark for a few seconds. Tripp tugs on Timmy’s jacket. He moves Tripp up to sit on his shoulder, close to his ear.

After a few songs, Timmy whispers to Tripp, “You’re a very good singer. Did the Big Guy teach you that?”

“No,” Tripp whispers back. “It just comes natural because we sing to him all the time.”

“Then how do you have time to make all those toys if you’re singing?” Timmy asks.

“That’s because I have never made a toy, but I was at the very first Christmas,” Tripp answers.

“First Christmas? Elves were not there at the birth of Jesus,” Timmy states.

“No, but angels were.”

The hairs on the back of Timmy’s neck stand up. “You’re an…angel?”

Tripp giggles. “I am not an elf.”

“But you said you were.”

“No, I never called myself an elf. You assumed I was one.”

“But you said the Big Guy sent you.”

“He did. The Big Guy as in God-The Lord God Almighty.” Tripp answers. “You made another assumption that the Big Guy was Santa.”

“But why would…” Timmy pauses. “My prayer for the Christmas Spirit. By why did you come as an elf?”

“That was the best way for you to realize that the real Christmas Spirit is not about Santa Claus and presents. Not that there is anything wrong with them, but the true Spirit is the Holy Spirit. The belief that Jesus came out of Heaven and down here to save people. To be the Messiah.”

Tim feels a warmth come all over him. A gladness and joy threatens to spill out of him. “I get it now Tripp. I want to dance like you do.”

“You need to keep that feeling all the time and not just at Christmas. If you really want to enjoy Christmas like never before, then you need to do things for others and not just yourself.”

“I will. I promise.”

The choir begins to sing, “O Holy night.”

Tripp whispers, “It really was a beautiful and Holy night indeed. Merry Christmas Timmy.”

Before Timmy can respond, there is a flash of light and Tripp is gone. People around him turn around in their seats to look at him.
***
Timmy takes his house shoe out of the drawer and places it in his keepsake chest with his comic books.
Roxy whines and Timmy rubs her ears. “Yeah, I miss him too.”

Timmy turns his attention back to the drawer. The book Tripp was reading is still laying in it. Timmy takes it out. It is a small Bible.

“Timmy?” His mother comes into the room. “Where did you get it?”

“Get what mom?” His hand tightens around the tiny Bible.

She held out her new purple ornament with the sparkly angel on the front. “Mrs. Holbert said she only made one of these.”

“I didn’t get another one mom.”

“But it’s in one piece. There’s no way this has been glued back together.”

Timmy shrugs. “Guess it was a Christmas miracle.”