“And they all lived happily ever after,” said Pandora, closing the book.

“The End,” said Jack, kissing Pandora on the top of the head.

“Really?” asked Dasher, the oldest, looking between the snow globe in her hands and then, back at Pandora, who was holding the thick tome in her hands. “That’s it? I thought there would be more to the story. That was just a knock-off of The Matchstick Girl! Except Dad almost melted instead of freezing, and nobody died — and also, there was a romance. It was a very loose adaptation. I give it one star out of five. I want my money back, even though this was free.”

“Me too,” said Dancer, Dasher’s twin. “Heck, I wouldn’t even leave a review!” The two teen girls were sitting behind their younger siblings, who had front row seats to Christmas Eve story time with their parents.

“That’s really all there was to the story,” said Pandora, flicking through the pages of the book. “You know, when you were younger, the three of you could barely stay awake through the whole story.” Pandora pointed to the twins and the third eldest sister.

“We’re not like Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen,” protested Prancer.

“Yeah, we can stay up, with the adults,” said Vixen. “Aren’t we going to have to do that one day anyway? Help with The Ride?”

“One day — but not today, and certainly not tonight,” said Pandora.

“Come on, Mom, let us stay up later,” said Comet. “We’re big kids now!”

“And how do you think your grandfather will feel if his own grandkids are being Naughty on Christmas Eve?” asked Jack, getting down on the kids’ level. “Besides — I need help getting Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen into bed.”

The three youngest children had nodded off — Cupid and Blitzen leaning their heads on Donner’s shoulder. Their snow globes had nearly fallen out of their hands.

“Fine,” said Dasher. “But, Dancer and I are nearly old enough to help grandpa out!”

“We can talk about it after Christmas — that is, if you’re not too old for Christmas too,” said Jack, arms crossed. “That’d be a real shame, given you two would be too old for Christmas presents too. This year, your mom and I put a lot of effort into your gift, too…”

“I thought grandpa gave gifts to the kids,” commented Comet.

“Everyone can give gifts — that’s why we made Mom and Dad gifts in school,” Vixen reminded Comet.

“Speaking of gifts, it’s time to put yours away,” said Pandora, standing up and putting the large book on her thick armchair. “Come on.”

Pandora led the kids to the large curio case. The two eldest girls, Dasher and Dancer, could be trusted to put their snow globes away without pulling the whole case down. The two seventeen-year-olds were tall enough to reach the shelf where they kept the snow globes.

Prancer and Vixen couldn’t quite reach the shelf. Aged ten and eleven, the two girls needed some help from Pandora and Jack. If they were going to follow after their older sisters, they’d have their growth spurts soon enough.

“Lift me!” demanded Comet, and of course, Jack lifted up his seven-year-old, so she could put the snow globe in its proper place, a clean round spot on a dusty shelf.

The four-year-old triplets hadn’t been able to stay up all night, so it was up to Pandora and Jack to put away their snow globes. Jack picked up Cupid and Donner, while Pandora carried Blitzen. Comet followed after her mother. Without having to be asked, Dasher and Dancer shepherded Prancer and Vixen to the eldest children’s wing of the house.

“Those two might be sassy — but at least they’re Nice,” commented Pandora, walking into the large bedroom that the four youngest children shared, as Comet had insisted on sharing a room with her favorite siblings.

“You know where they get that sass from,” Jack reminded Pandora.

Pandora opened the sheets of Blitzen’s tiny bed with one hand, tucking in her youngest daughter. Comet helped Jack by opening the sheets of Cupid and Donner’s beds, but soon, was rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“Come on, Comet — you’re a good helper, but you need to go to bed too,” said Pandora.

“I am a good helper,” insisted Comet. “I am good, Mommy — I’m Nice!”

“I know, honey, that’s what I’m saying,” said Pandora with a lighthearted chuckle. She walked Comet to her bed and tucked her daughter in.

“Merry Christmas, honey,” said Pandora, kissing Comet on the head.

“Merry Christmas, Mommy,” said Comet, kissing Pandora on the cheek.

“Thank you so much for being a big girl and helping out,” said Jack, kissing Comet on the forehead. “Merry Christmas, honey.”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” said Comet, kissing Jack on the cheek. “Daddy…can you leave the Christmas lights on?”

Pandora and Jack exchanged a look.

“Hon…It’s Christmas,” said Jack.

“Yeah, it’s Christmas!” said Comet.

“Alright, alright — but only because it’s Christmas,” said Pandora.

Pandora and Jack walked out of the room, and before they exited, they flicked a switch, turning on soft red, blue, green, and yellow lights embedded in the ceiling.

“Merry Christmas,” said Jack, giving Pandora a kiss as they closed the door to the little ones’ room behind them.

“They grow up so fast,” said Pandora. “Do you remember when it was Comet who was falling asleep like that? Before we even started the second story?”

“Hon, do you remember when it was Dasher and Dancer who nodded off before the end of the first story?” asked Jack. “Now, the two are nearly ready to —”

“Don’t say it,” said Pandora. “I can’t admit that so much time has passed! Especially not on Christmas!”

“What’s Christmas for, if not remembering family and traditions and the stories that brought us together?” asked Jack. “Besides…trust me. I don’t think Dasher and Dancer really think they’re all grown up, not yet.”

“You don’t?” asked Pandora.

“Not at all — but I think it’s best if I show you,” said Jack.

Jack and Pandora walked hand in hand through their large house at The North Pole. The home was warm and cozy, although Boreas and the other ice elementals were, like Santana, working up a storm outside. The house was decorated with festive lights and garlands and seemed to perpetually smell of sugar cookies, peppermint hot chocolate, and warm hugs.

The pair quickly reached the older kids’ wing. Each of the older children had their own room. Pandora was about to open the door to Vixen’s room, but Jack stayed her hand.

Jack put a finger to his lips and then, pointed to his ear, then, the door. Pandora frowned. She wasn’t one to spy on her kids, but apparently, various Claus-Frost family rules were broken on Christmas Eve.

Pandora listened at the door. At first, she heard Vixen giggle. She frowned again. Apparently, the twins had not put their younger siblings to bed yet!

Jack motioned for Pandora to wait. Pandora kept listening.

“And then what happened?” asked Vixen.

“And then, something magical happened — a reindeer flew down from the sky, and the very sight stopped Joy in her tracks,” said Dasher.

“Which reindeer was it?” asked Vixen.

“Well, believe it or not — it was my future reindeer, Dasher,” said Dasher. “But, of course, at the time, who had the power to turn into Dasher?”

“Sean!” said Vixen.

“Exactly,” said Dasher. “So then, Sean apologized to Joy. He explained everything, and finally…took out the box.”

“The same box that Mom gave him?” asked Vixen with a gasp.

“The very same,” said Dasher. “He proposed…and taught Joy the true meaning of Christmas. Uncle Krampus showed up to tell Sean he was off of The Naughty List, and that they would live happily ever after.”

“And did they?” asked Vixen.

“You bet your bottom dollar,” said Dasher.

“Can you tell me the next one? About Dancer?” asked Vixen. “There are so many details Mom and Dad left out!”

“Trust me, this is the whole story,” promised Dasher. “So, the next year…”

Pandora pulled her ear from the door and walked a distance with Jack, away from the door.

“How did she…and the books…and…” Pandora sputtered.

“At least she’s telling the sanitized version of events — you know, keeping it sweet and clean and age appropriate,” said Jack.

“We need to hide those books better,” admitted Pandora.

“You know how kids are — always getting into what they shouldn’t,” said Jack. “At least now you know that the twins do take the holiday seriously, that they do want to be a part of all this, the magic.” Jack motioned around at nothing in particular.

“I just can’t believe they turn eighteen tomorrow,” said Pandora.

Pandora heard a thud outside.

“You know who that has to be,” said Jack with a smile.

“Mom?” asked Dancer, peeking out from Prancer’s room. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, honey — probably just snow that fell off the roof,” said Pandora.

“Do you need help doing the rounds, making sure everything’s okay?” asked Dancer.

“No, honey — it’s nothing,” said Pandora.

“It sounded loud,” said Dancer with a frown.

“It’s nothing!” insisted Pandora. “Make sure not to keep your sister up too late, now — your father and I are going to make sure the, uh, food for Christmas breakfast is ready for tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh, okay, whatever,” said Dancer, rolling her eyes and heading back into the room. “Where was I again? Oh yeah. We were talking about Donner. So this guy, Kevin….”

“Sassy,” grumbled Pandora. “Alright. Let’s just make sure they didn’t make it super obvious.”

Pandora walked outside the house with Jack. Outside, in the front of their home, was a familiar sight — Avery and Krampus, bickering.

“See?” said Avery, motioning to Pandora and Jack. “I told you — that was too loud!”

“Nonsense,” said Krampus. “I’d like to see you land it better.”

“With my years of flying experience, I would’ve landed it better!” said Avery with a frown. “Typical demon!”

“Sup?” asked Jack.

“One sleigh — bright red and shiny, as you ordered,” said Krampus, slapping the top of the sleigh. “Can’t believe it’s been so long already.”

“Neither can I,” said Pandora. “I guess it’s time for the next generation to take over.”

“Can we come in?” asked Avery. “It was, uh, a long ride, so…”

“You’re always welcome in our —” started Pandora, but Avery was off like a shot, running toward their bathroom.

“Grandpa?” squealed a voice that Pandora knew must be Prancer’s. “Oh — it’s just Aunt Avery. Everyone, go back to bed.”

“How was the ride up?” asked Jack.

“Smoother than it would’ve been in Santana’s old thing,” said Krampus. “You sure this is what your girls want? Isn’t this a little…retro?”

“They wanted to be just like their grandpa,” said Pandora, crossing her arms and looking over the bright red magical sleigh.

“It’s just missing one thing,” said Krampus, raising his arms. Rivulets of bright demonic green came out of his wrists and wrapped around the sleigh.

“Hey! I thought we agreed that the ribbon would be red,” said Avery, waving her arms to change the color of the ribbon to crimson red.

“Whatever you say, dear,” said Krampus, kissing his wife on the cheek, one arm around her waist, the other, behind his back, a finger spinning toward the sleigh and changing the ribbon back to green.

Krampus took his chain off his neck and threw it to the ground. Before Krampus and Avery disappeared through the portal, Avery waved her hand — causing half of the ribbon to revert back to red before she landed in the snow outside her cabin on The Wreath.

“The twins better not peek,” said Pandora. “And they have to wear helmets. I don’t trust them to not fall out of that thing.”

“Your father will train them well,” said Jack, pulling his wife in for a hug. “Now, don’t you and I need to hit the hay?”

“After we clean up a bit,” said Pandora, walking back into her house. She walked to the living room, to her chair, and picked up the tome — The Twelve Mates Of Christmas by one Panda Claus. She looked through the illustrated book, an abridged, cleaned-up version of the true events, nothing like the romance novel versions of her journals. She carried the book over to the curio case and put it on its stand. She ran her fingers over the snow globes, looking at their contents, whole worlds, each one populated by a single solitary creature with massive antlers.

“Can you believe it’s happening so soon, Mama Bear?” asked Jack, coming up behind Pandora and nuzzling his head into her shoulder.

“This Mama Bear’s nowhere near being ready to see her cubs leave the cave,” said Pandora.

“At least you know they’ll be in trustworthy hands,” said Jack, running the tips of Pandora’s fingers over the globes. Pandora felt the magic sparking beneath her hand. She could feel the primal magical energy emanating from inside the glass.

“Trustworthy hooves,” Pandora corrected Jack, before closing the curio. Pandora hit the lights to the living room and looked at the twinkling Christmas tree.

The tree was not like the gorgeous trees at Santana’s Workshop. The tree wasn’t huge. It didn’t have perfectly coordinated lights and glass balls. What it had was heart. Every ornament on the tree had been hung with care, from Krampus’ pickle ornament – a wedding gift — to twelve handmade ornaments that had been passed down from Santana to his daughter.

Pandora ran her fingers over the heirloom ornaments in order.

There was a wooden tree, with a single golden bird hidden in its leaves. The golden partridge wasn’t easy to find, as little golden pears dotted the tree. Pandora knew it was impossible, but, every time she looked at the ornament, she thought the partridge moved to a new location.

There was a pair of doves that kissed if they were gently tapped. The ornament had always made Pandora a little sad as a child because she didn’t know why every living creature could find true love – even small things like birds – but people like her dad and her uncle Krampus couldn’t. Well, a lot had changed since Pandora had been a wee child.

A hen, a rooster, and a chick symbolized the third day of Christmas, but to Pandora, they signified something more — family.

There were four birds, flying in a circle. Pandora couldn’t rightly identify the birds, their mouths open as if they were in song. As a small girl, Pandora swore that if she held the ornament up to her ear, she could hear the song of the calling birds.

Next came five rings, each wooden ring linked, made of a single piece of carefully carved wood with gold inlaid along the grain of the wood. Sometimes, when there wasn’t a draft to be found, the golden rings would make a twinkling sound like a summer windchime.

The six geese a-layin’ was a simple enough ornament. There were six geese, in a row, and the bottom of the ornament, forming a set of six nests, could be removed, showing that the geese were sitting on six golden eggs. As a small child, the simple ornament, a mere game of peek-a-boo, entertained her to no end. To see it entertain her youngest three, the triplets Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen, made Pandora misty-eyed.

The next ornament was in a glass globe, containing a tiny river, with seven wooden swans, painted white, swimming. The bottom half of the decoration was made of blue glass, completing the illusion. When Pandora wasn’t watching the ornament, she swore the swans could swim around the globe, making splashing sounds.

Next, there was a tiny glass cube. A metal key stuck out of the cube. When twisted, the scene inside the cube came alive — and eight pretty maids started milking eight jolly cows. Of course, these were Christmas cows, white cows with red stripes (or were they red cows with white stripes?) which produced peppermint candy cane flavored milk. Pandora had always been amazed at how her father had managed to craft such a lifelike scene in the globe, and sometimes, wondered if there was more to the ornament than just some advanced mechanical engineering, more than just gears and keys causing the scene to come to life. Pandora wound up the cube and watched the maids milking, in a circle, their heads turning, to gossip with one another.

Pandora looked at the next scene, of nine ladies dancing. The nine ladies, in their different fancy dresses, spun gracefully around the room. Although there was a small crank that powered the ornament, like many of the other moving ornaments, Pandora had never been quite sure whether it was truly mechanical energy that ran the ornaments and not some type of Christmas magic. No ornament made her question this more than the dancing ladies, who wooden figures seemed to move as gracefully as if they were made of flesh, their dresses swirling over the flower as if they were made of light fabric and not wood, their spindled arms turning without splintering, almost seeming to bend as they danced, weaving in and out of various formations.

There were ten tiny frogs, in waistcoats, hats, and ascots, hopping about — Santana’s interpretation of the traditional ‘ten lords a leaping.’ The silly site always brought a smile to Pandora’s face. Her father could be a serious man, but he had a whimsical imagination he let shine in his gifts to his family, and to children around the world. As a child, Pandora had thought that was what Christmas magic was, but, during her time at The Wreath, she’d learned the true meanings of Christmas and Christmas magic — that Christmas magic, and the true meaning of Christmas, varied from person to person, but that the one thing tying everything together was love.

One of Pandora’s favorite ornaments was the penultimate ornament, which was shaped like a tiny wooden jukebox. When she turned the small golden crank and clicked one of the eleven buttons, a piper came out and piped out a song. Each piper’s outfit matched the era of his tune. The tiny ornament was like a music box for woodwind instruments.

The last ornament was half-ornament, half-clock, hung high on the tree. Three golden spinning hands moved ‘round the clock, marking hours, days, and seconds. Whenever a given hour was struck, a tiny drummer popped out of a tiny door hidden beneath a number and drummed out the correct number of beats. Pandora watched as the clock struck eleven. Out of the number eleven, a tiny drummer popped out, drumsticks held high. The drumsticks came down on the small drum, beating out eleven beats before the drummer bowed and disappeared into the clock, where he’d stay for twelve more hours. A single winding of the golden key at the back of the ornament was enough to keep the clock going for the entire Christmas season.

“I was going to wait until tomorrow to give these to you,” said Jack, reaching down and taking one of the boxes from beneath the tree. “I think right now’s the right time to give it to you.”

Jack passed Pandora the box, wrapped in light blue paper, like all of Jack’s presents for his family and friends.

“You know, in a lot of families, it is traditional to open a present on Christmas Eve,” said Pandora.

“With our brood, maybe we ought to keep this a secret tradition — just for the two of us,” said Jack with a wink.

“Well, if I’m opening a present, you need to open one from me,” said Pandora, pulling one of her red presents out from under the tree and passing it to Jack.

The pair took their seats, in their matching armchairs, and undid the wrapping paper around their gifts.

“Oh, wow,” said Pandora, putting her hands up to her mouth. Jack reached and stopped the gift from slipping off of Pandora’s lap.

“Is it okay?” asked Jack.

“Jack — it’s perfect,” said Pandora. “It’s just like the snow globe on my desk, but…”

“With the kids,” said Jack softly, putting his still wrapped gift down on the chair before walking to Pandora, who had Jack’s gift palmed in her hand.

Pandora held the ornament up. Inside, a lively winter scene played. There was an iced-over lake, with a bakery nearby. On the patio, there were two familiar faces — that of a particular Christmas elf and her Christmas demon husband. Nearby, there was Santana and Befana, sharing a cup of cocoa, and Boreas and Ginny, at a table of their own.

Out on the ice, there were two figures — Pandora and Jack. Each one held the hand of one of their eldest daughters.

Pandora held Dasher’s hand. Dasher was holding the hand of Prancer, who was carrying Comet, who was holding onto Donner, all dressed up in baby’s winter gear, with tiny baby skates on her feet.

Jack was holding Dancer’s hand. Dancer was holding the hand of her sister Vixen, who was holding hands with Cupid, who had Blitzen’s hand in hers.

The pair skated, leading their kids behind them, tracing the path of a heart, exchanging cheeky cheek smooches when their paths met.

Pandora was about to hang the ornament up, but Jack stayed her hand.

“There’s…something else in the box,” said Jack.

“What is it?” asked Pandora. She dug through the box. There was a charm bracelet in the box. On the bracelet, there were twelve tiny painted charms.

“Jack, this is adorable,” said Pandora, putting the ornament down carefully and lifting the bracelet out of the box. Jack put the bracelet on Pandora’s wrist.

“Twelve drummers,” said Jack.

“On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…twelve drummers drumming,” said Pandora with a wink. “We just sang that song tonight!”

“Do you remember what’s special about December twelfth?” asked Jack.

“Of course I remember,” said Pandora. “It was the day we claimed each other, all those years ago, the day that this entire crazy fairy tale really started. I don’t need to check my journals to know that!”

“Look at the drummers,” said Jack. “Notice anything?”

At first, Pandora was going to say that she didn’t see anything special about them…but then she realized one of the drummers had a tiny Santa hat. She looked over the drummers. Each one looked like one of the men she’d helped matchmake…including Jack!

“Well, I’ll be,” said Pandora.

“Look,” said Jack. He tapped his charm. The charms suddenly flashed red and changed to show twelve curvy ladies, including Pandora! They were all drumming. He tapped again, and the drummers changed back into the heroes.

“Jack, that’s adorable,” said Pandora.

“Whether or not you realized it…all twelve of these couples have marched to the beat of their own drums,” said Jack.

“You know what? I think that’s what I want most for our daughters,” said Pandora. “I want them to march to the beats of their own drums. There’s no telling what songs Fate might sing…but they can set their own rhythms.”

“So? Do you like your gifts?” asked Jack.

“No — I love them,” said Pandora, hanging the ornament up in a prominent place on the tree. “Now I feel like what I got you isn’t as good.”

“Nonsense — whatever it is, it’s perfect,” said Jack.

Jack sat down in his armchair and unwrapped the thin box. Inside, there was an envelope. Inside the envelope, there was a wallet-sized photograph, of Pandora.

“Honey, it’s great,” said Jack. “When did you get this taken?”

“Oh, a while back,” said Pandora. “But…watch this.”

Pandora took the photo and turned it. The photograph’s image changed, showing Dasher. Pandora shook the picture. It showed Dancer. She shook the image a second time. It showed Prancer. Then, she turned the photo again. Now, it was showing group shots of the family, with Jack and Pandora included. She turned the photograph one last time and shook it wildly. The photo cycled through pictures of their friends and family.

“It’s for your wallet,” said Pandora, passing the photo back to Jack. “I know that when you’re down South, things can get lonely, so I wanted you to have a piece of your family with you, always.”

“Honey, it’s perfect,” said Jack. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and put the small photo into the photo holder in his wallet, before putting the wallet away.

“We had a perfect Christmas Eve. Well, almost perfect. There’s just one thing missing,” said Jack.

“What is it?” asked Pandora, looking around. “More ribbons?”

“No,” said Jack with a chuckle.

“More poinsettias?” asked Pandora. “No — more wreaths? Because tomorrow, we can go out and get some craft supplies and — ooh!” Pandora was stopped midsentence by Jack, who lifted her into the air to give her a kiss.

“You, in our bed, right where you belong,” said Jack. “After all…if you stay up trying to catch Santa, you might just get on The Naughty List.”

Jack kissed his wife and lifted her up into her arms, before carrying her up the stairs, into their bedroom, and tucking her in. Jack gave his wife a kiss on the forehead once he got into bed.

“What was that for?” asked Pandora Claus, snuggling up to her best friend, her husband, her Jack Frost.

“For making every day like Christmas,” said Jack.