As Christmas neared, chaos erupted at the North Pole. Four of Santa’s best elves caught the flu, leaving the trainees scrambling to keep up. The toy production line slowed to a miserable crawl.
Then, just as Santa was trying to hold things together, Mrs. Claus cheerfully announced that her mother was coming to visit.
Desperate for a moment of peace, Santa went to harness the reindeer—only to discover that three were about to give birth, and two had jumped the fence, disappearing into the snowy wilderness.
Still determined, he began loading the sleigh. But luck was not on his side. A floorboard gave way, sending the massive toy sack tumbling. Gifts shot out in every direction, bouncing, breaking, and scattering across the workshop like an explosion of holiday spirit.
Frustrated and exhausted, Santa trudged inside for a cup of apple cider—maybe with a splash of rum to take the edge off. But when he opened the cupboard, he found that the elves had drunk all the cider and—just for fun—hidden the liquor.
In his rising fury, he knocked over the empty jug, which shattered into a thousand tiny glass shards. Muttering under his breath, he grabbed the broom—only to find that the mice had chewed all the straw off the end.
And that’s when the doorbell rang.
Grinding his teeth, Santa stomped to the door and yanked it open.
There stood a tiny, beaming angel, holding an enormous Christmas tree.
“Merry Christmas, Santa!” the angel chirped. “Isn’t this just a wonderful day? I brought you a beautiful tree! Now… where would you like me to put it?”
And that, my friends, is how the tradition of the angel on top of the Christmas tree began.
Not many people know this.
