If you are an “Elf” hater, don’t read any further. Okay, you can but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
I love “Elf” – the movie. Generally speaking elves scare me. Situations such as the baking elf phenomena or the “you’ll shoot your eye out!” elves on “A Christmas Story” force me to classify them as close mutant cousins to clowns.
But Buddy the Elf – ah – he’s in a whole different kind of category.
I suppose with my sense of humor it could be because Buddy finds himself in many hilarious painful situations. My girls and I watched “Elf” last night. We rewound the taxi scene at least three times and the star hanging scene twice, just so we could laugh longer.
Yes, I’m afraid I’ve passed the mutant “laugh at all pratfalls” gene to my children. Sigh. Why didn’t they get the “Oh my goodness. Are you okay?” gene from my husband’s polite family? Oops. I digress.
Maybe I like Buddy the Elf because he’s just so sweet. I know he drinks syrup by the gallon, but that’s not the source of sweetness. Buddy is the ultimate Pollyanna (Paulyanna). Even when he despairs of being a proper elf and labels himself a “cotton-headed ninnymuggins” he still wants to be all he can be and hopes that there is something out there that is his to accomplish.
I want to be a Buddy. I want to see the potential and good and seek to make it even better. I want to live life without being self-conscious and concerned about the thoughts my behavior will generate in others. I want to see the world as shiny and exciting…each cup of coffee might be the “world’s best” in a wonderland where people leave gifts everywhere. I’d like to see the good but hidden gifts in others and encourage them to use them because they make the world a better place, while being thoughtful enough to warn them to watch for speeding cabs. I want to respond “yeah! He’s coming? Oh, Goody!” when I think about Jesus returning for me. Yes. That was Buddy’s response to Santa. So shouldn’t my response to Jesus be even stronger?
Believe. Sing. Embrace. Spread a little joy and cheer while you interact with others this weekend. And watch out for the yellow ones because they don’t stop.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.