Hey my wonderful friends! This is the secret page where I will put story pieces for you! You can read them on your kindles. I will change the story that’s up here when I send you a new letter. Your first story is at the bottom of this page!
I will also tell you video stories at this secret link.
Remember, to send me a letter, send it to:
702 Santa Rosa Drive, Apt 210a
Except from April 7 to April 21, where I will be at:
Laurel Ridge Treatment Center
While I am in the hospital, they won’t let me have my computer, so then I will have to send you paper-only stories. I’m kind of scared so please pray for me!
Ethan came to our house when our elf disappeared.
We had an elf in our house, you see, because we are Danish. He would play tricks on our horses. Or throw poo at our windows. Or write silly jokes on our laundry. He wasn’t mean. He was just a Nisse–a tricksy Danish house elf. If anything went silly, it was the Nisse’s fault.
My name is Ruby-Claire, and I know all about silly.
That’s because my middle name is silly: I’m Ruby-Claire Lisa-Giuseppe Wimmer. I’m named after all my Mom’s best friends. My Mor–that’s Danish for Mom–could not make up her mind when I was born. One of my names is even a boy’s name!
Mor says to blame the epidural, whatever that means.
And my Far–Danish for Dad–just shakes his head and says nothing.
The night before Ethan came, my Far put me on his back and climbed the ladder to the attic. It was dark, and smelled like old wood, and leather shoes. The scary shadows watched me. I held tight to Far’s scratchy neck.
“This will stop the Nisse from playing tricks,” Far said. He winked at me and rubbed his cheek on mine.
“Stop it! That’s itchy,” I said.
Far laughed, and put a hot bowl of riesenglul on the attic floor. Rice pudding–the Nisse loves rice pudding!
Then he carried me downstairs to help my mother, my Mor, hide pictures of the Nisse for me. I loved to see the Nisse’s silly smile, his turned up nose, and his funny yellow hair. On Christmas Day, I would run all around with my brother and sister, to find all the Nisse-pictures first!
But that Christmas, when we woke up, all the pictures were gone.
And when we looked out the window, our goat had my pants on!
And then the door bell rang…
…and there stood a boy, about my age, with a silly smile, a turned up nose, and funny yellow hair.