The Magic of Elfing
So I love christmas, and, yes, I know a lot of people “like christmas”, but I “own nine christmas sweaters, decorate on christmas first, only listen to christmas music, happy cry” like christmas.
Sometimes when you love something so much it becomes blatantly obvious and others take notice. When I was sixteen my brother’s friend, who basically only knew that I like christmas, and nothing else about me, referred me to a santa photography company; thus began (so far) five magical years of working with mall Santas, and being paid to basically be as close as realistically possible to a real life elf.
Essentially, what I’m saying is that dreams do come true.
I work in a pretty quiet mall compared to the others around where I live, so I’ve generally had a little more freedom to explore different christmas related boredom outlets.
I recall one year, the santa set was decorated with stuffed penguins, which the elves and children enjoyed alike. Early in the month of December, at a time in which tumbleweed may as well have rolled through our magical christmas surroundings, another one of Santa’s helpers and myself ended up throwing the penguin around. We were bouncing it off body parts, rolling it elegantly on our arms, and taking photo’s with them and santa. Boredom was also relieved by dancing and doing cartwheels to the christmas music that played over the mall speakers.
Just last year I even drew Santa on a lined piece of paper I had left over from studying. I signed it “Elf Cairo”. Santa says he still has it. So all in all even the boring parts of being a mall elf are cheerful and seasonal… if you try hard enough.
Now, when it comes to doing the real nitty gritty hard work of elfing, a lot of sweat and tears are involved. Not from me of course. The tears are lovingly provided by the toddlers that visit Santa, whom I can only assume aren’t too fond of the fact that some random bearded man is holding them and pinching their cheeks.
The sweat, well, that’s all Santa. As they (yes “they”, sorry to spoil what may be left of your christmas magic) have told me, their suites are very warm. They may not be designed for the actual north pole, but they are still covered in faux fur, and occasionally sat upon by one, if not several, children at any given moment. Nonetheless these Santas are lovely people – cheerful, chubby, and kind.
The real meaning of christmas is not lost with these bearded jokesters. Time and time again over the years I’ve been working with them, they’ve shown me a kindness that I aspire to match. 
Although most people over the age of eleven at least know the Santas in the mall are not the real Santa, there still seems to be this magical, inviting nature to them. Many people, often seniors, approach Santa, sit on his lap, or next to him, and tell them about their troubles, their regrets, and their past.
It’s like free counselling, but only once a year. Santa is always there to listen and help, often providing a hug and a candy cane. Sometimes that’s the best they can do. Other times, after hearing people’s woes, these Santas go above and beyond.
This year, a little girl who was severely ill, came in to take a photo with Santa. He listened to her story, recounted first by her mother, and then the girl.
Santa felt he couldn’t just leave it at that. He told me that he had plans to arrange a donation, and, after speaking with her mother, decided he would personally deliver a gift that she wanted right to her doorstep.
Another santa donates all the money he makes from any Santa event to charity. All of it!
To me they really are Santa. The magic is still there, and here, and every where, even into my adulthood. That’s the beauty of elfing.