What's Happening in the Glen?

Something has settled in the Southern Glen. From the city gates, you can see the gentle rise of smoke from small chimneys, smell the charming mix of pine needles, sawdust, pastry and pies. You may even be able to hear the little taps of hammer on wood or anvil, and the cheerful laughter of little people going about their daily business. Come closer, and you will find a little slice of the North Pole tucked away between snow laden trees and the frozen lake.

No, Santa Claus hasn't come to town yet. But Mrs Claus and a little band of elves have made Rhy'Din their center of operations for Winterfest. The workshop rings with the busy sounds of toymaking, the kitchen is overflowing with goodies that need decorating, the reindeer are restless in their stables, Christmas trees need a good home, and right in the center stands a very special letterbox. The Glen is alive with the sights and sounds and smells of Christmas, and everyone is welcome to visit!

((The Grotto and workshop is open for free play all through WinterFest - enjoy the setting and don't forget to post your WinterFest wishes dropped in the magic mailbox here! Super-special wish letters writers may get a surprise visit!))

Last year, things had been different. Well, this year, Piper was determined to make it very different, especially since her one-year-old was looking more and more like a three-year-old and talking like someone in her teens. Lyneth was buzzing with excitement for Winterfest, and as soon as the bells rang out that the little grotto in the Glen was open, she had all but dragged her mother out of the house.

Hand in hand, mother and daughter made their way down to the snow-covered slice of the North Pole, and almost immediately Piper was rushed into the thick embrace of snow-laden trees, lifting her daughter up to let Lyneth see the vast array of trees grown especially for this time of year. It seemed to take an age for the little girl to decide which one she wanted, and it was beyond Piper to work out what made the one she eventually decided upon so special. All Lyneth would tell her was that the spirit in the tree wanted to come home with them.

From there, they wandered to the stables, where again Lyneth gave Piper something of a minor heart attack by climbing into the paddock with the reindeer, laying her little gloved hands on each lowered head. She'd always known her daughter was special - a Fae child was rarely anything but, apparently - but it was a unique experience to witness the tiny girl talking to animals in what seemed to be their own language.

The toy workshop didn't appeal to the quiet child, but they lost almost two hours in Mrs Claus' kitchen, laughing and joking with the other families there as children of all ages produced the most outlandish display of Winterfest decorations for cookies, cakes, and other dainties as they came out of the huge ovens. Armed with a big box of Lyneth's own workmanship, it was something of an effort to drag the tiny girl away.

But the letterbox, now that caught Piper's attention. She remembered, as a child, writing letters to Father Christmas, laying down her wishes and hopes for the season, and she couldn't help suggesting to her daughter that she might like to do the same.

"But there ithsn't a Father Christhtmaths," Lyneth objected, lisping through her missing front teeth. "Or a thSanta Clauths."

Piper's mouth worked silently for a moment, having to rethink her approach at this point. She'd taken it for granted that Lyneth would believe in Santa or St. Nick. It came as a bit of a shock to discover that the little girl already knew the truth.

"Well," she flailed for something she could suggest instead, "....isn't there anyone you'd like to tell your winter wishes to?"

Lyneth gave her a thoughtful look from under her warm hat, huffing at stray strands of hair as she did so. "Only you," she answered in a solemn little voice, cuddling close to her mother's leg as Piper fought down the lump that rose in her throat. "Doeths Rhy'Din have a Winter King?"

Relieved that her Fae daughter had offered her an alternative, Piper swallowed, moving to crouch down, hugging one arm around the solemn child at her side. "Why don't you write to him and find out' You tell me what to write down, and you can post your letter right here and now."

Seemingly happy with this compromise, Lyneth scuttled over to the big table that had been laid out, flailing her hands toward paper and pens and envelopes as Piper joined her. Settling together, tiny girl on her mother's lap, they set about writing something to post in the special letterbox, dictated by one and set down faithfully by the other.

Dear Winter King,

I have not been very good this year. I forgot that I have a mummy and a daddy, and I made my mummy feel left out. But I will be very good next year, and I will not forget again. Please look after Ollie in your kingdom, and don't let my daddy hurt my mummy. And please can Loki have something big and chewy so he doesn't eat my teddy anymore?

I hope you have a Happy Solstice, and you die happy so that spring comes soon. I don't like the cold much. These are my winter wishes. And I will give you a big pie of something sweet so you don't get hungry, and a little glass of something from my mummy's special box, but not too much or you'll crash your sleigh.

Lyneth Katherine Davidson

The letter done, little gloved hands pushed the sealed envelope into the letterbox and, hand in hand once more, Piper and Lyneth left the Glen, excited at the prospect of decorating their very own Christmas tree together.

Dear Santa:

For most of my life I didn't know you existed. These last three years have been interesting. I've been told you don't really exist. That you are fake. But I've seen you each year.

My wants sort of have not changed. Just a peaceful and safe holiday for everyone. I have enough to get me by and more thanks to my brother so I would much rather things go to the less fortunate. Make them smile..fill their bellies..

For me..a little bit of selfishness. You see...I have a friend who has been missing. If you could in any way help him find his way home....

Be safe on your travels and Happy Holidays to you Santa.

Kathryn Batten

Dear Good Spirits of the Winter Season,

I believe in all of you! Doesn't matter what name you have, you are the special beings of good that look after people. Not everyone can have all their wishes. Rick, Catie, and me got what we need and lotsa stuff we want. So, I asked Uncle Paddy if he could make sure all the kids in Rhydin could have a good Christmas dinner, can you help him and his crew with that"

Can you please make sure Doran and Azure's baby brother or sister gets a safe trip into the word" Thanks!

Love,

Maggie Harker

On the stroke of 10pm, the little magical letter box faded from view, leaving behind only a faint glimmer of sparkle in the snow. Barely moments later, the news went whizzing through the town. The winning letter had been chosen! Santa's special visit had been decided!

Congratulations to Mairead Harker! Santa Claus is coming to YOU!