Coloring page story
Pip’s workshop corner was the quietest in the whole North Pole. All around him, you could hear the tink-tink-tink of tiny hammers and the whizz-buzz of miniature saws. But from Pip’s corner, you mostly heard a soft sigh.
Today, Pip was trying to make a wooden rocking horse. He had the smoothest pine wood and the shiniest brass nails. But when he put it all together, the horse didn't rock. It wobbled. Wibble-wobble-THUD.
"Oh, fiddlesticks," Pip mumbled, his pointy ears drooping. Elder Elmsworth, whose beard was as white as a snowdrift, shuffled over.
"Another wobbly one, Pip?" he asked gently.
Pip nodded, his cheeks turning as red as his tunic. "I try so hard, Elder Elmsworth. But my hands just don't seem to work like the other elves'."
The Elder stroked his long beard. "Perhaps," he said, his eyes twinkling, "your hands are meant for a different kind of work." He pointed a wrinkled finger at the horse. "You cannot make it rock, that is true. But look at the wood. You've polished it until it shines like a frozen lake at sunrise."
Pip looked. It was true. He hadn't noticed. He loved the feel of the smooth wood and had spent hours rubbing it with a soft cloth.
Suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind. He couldn’t make the horse rock, but what else could he do? He grabbed a tiny pot of berry-red paint. He didn't try to build. He just… decorated. He painted tiny, swirling patterns on the saddle and a little garland of holly around its neck. He used a piece of soft velvet for the reins.
When he was done, the horse still wobbled. But it was the most beautiful, shiny, and cheerful-looking rocking horse in the entire workshop. Santa Claus himself stopped by.
"Ho ho ho! What a magnificent creature!" Santa boomed. "It doesn't rock, I see."
"No, sir," said Pip quietly. "It wobbles."
"Well," said Santa, patting Pip’s shoulder. "Some children like to wobble! This horse isn't for rocking; it's for imagining. And you, my boy, have imagined it beautifully."
For the first time all day, Pip didn't feel like an elf who couldn't make toys. He felt like an elf who could make things beautiful. And that was a very warm feeling indeed.