When I was a young dreamer, I believed in elves. They lived in the woods, in tree knotholes, and they wore acorn hats and slept beneath blankets made of leaves. They crept about in the night doing good deeds for the worthy, and playing pranks on the naughty. If you woke to find your blankets all on the floor, that was the work of an elf, and if on your walk to school, you found a penny, that was their work, too. They drank dewdrops and had their own pet ladybugs. If you captured an elf, he would probably be a little bit cross, but you could hold him in your palm and he would grant you wishes. However, elves were very, very clever, and would almost never let you see them.
In the winter, their tiny leather boots were not warm enough, and so their mothers knitted little slippers, which did the trick, and which looked very festive indeed, and when an elf was lucky enough to get a seasonal job with Santa’s team for the Big Show, he wanted to look his very best. Of course, on Christmas Eve, Santa is in a huge rush, and sometimes, in the hurry back up the chimney, a slipper gets left behind, where a little girl in a flannel nightgown and glasses just might find it the next morning, lying tellingly beside the hearth. Proof of Christmas magic.
I have made a free pattern for you to be an elf mother yourself and knit up one of these slippers, and you can find it here. Many thanks, again, to lovely Lesley at Black Sheep Wools for sending me the yarn to make this one.