Editor’s note: This is the third chapter of the 12-part holiday tale “The Snow Elf,” running daily through Christmas morning. Parents are encouraged to read aloud to their children.

“Thank you so very much for freeing me,” the elf said, stretching his arms above his head. He nudged the broken glass with the pointed toe of his red striped shoe, shuddering. “It was awful being trapped in that globe.”

Alex stood protectively in front of Anna, holding his arms out. “Who are you and how did you get in here?” He pulled his phone out from his pocket. “I’m calling the cops.”

The elf flicked his hand. The phone flew out of Alex’s grasp and landed across the room on Anna’s bed.

“Hey!” Alex yelled, stepping forward, and Anna pulled on his shirt.

“No, wait, Alex,” she said. “It’s the elf from the snow globe. He’s free!”

“Don’t be ridiculous Anna.” Alex glared at the elf. “He’s not an elf, he’s an intruder.”

The elf raised his eyebrows and his bright blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “Not an elf, eh? Then how could I do this?”

He waved his arm in an arch, leaving a trail of fluffy white snow drifting to the ground. Then he made a fist and opened his hand to reveal a perfectly round snowball, which he lobbed at Alex.

“Hey,” Alex cried, ducking. The snowball hit the wall behind him, exploding into sparkling glitter. Another snowball launched at him, this time hitting him squarely in the chest, and the impact covered him in a sheen of glittery dust. The elf geared up for another one and Alex held up his hands.

“OK, stop! Please, I believe you. Just… stop.” Alex looked down at himself in disgust; he was going to sparkle for the rest of his high school career. He shook out his shirt, making a cloud of glitter puff off him.

Anna smiled at the elf. “I’m Anna. It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Elf.”

The elf smiled back. “Please don’t call me ‘Mr.’ That’s for old elves and I’m only 463. Just call me Georgie. Georgie Glitterfrost.”

“So,” Anna said, looking from Georgie to the broken pieces of snow globe, “how did you get stuck in there?”

Georgie sighed, sinking into Anna’s desk chair and putting his head in his hands. “It was all my fault,” he said, his voice muffled from behind his hands.

“You see, each and every elf at the North Pole has a magical talent, something that they consider their specialty. Some are exceptionally good at toy making. Some are great at creating new candy and delicious treats. Me?”

He wiggled his fingers, emitting a flurry of silver snowflakes.

“My magical talent is snow. And it’s a very important talent,” he added, somewhat defensively. “After all, who could ever imagine a North Pole not covered in snow? It simply wouldn’t do. And without snow, the reindeer would never be able to pull the sleigh out of the bay.”

Anna nodded, understanding perfectly.

“Anyway, right before Christmas, Santa likes to do a run-through to make sure we’re all ready. I had been practicing a new snow spell, and…”

Georgie looked down glumly. “It went horribly, awfully wrong. It all happened so fast. The snow fell so hard that it was impossible to see, and it was piling up higher than our houses. So I panicked and did the only thing I could think of.”

He pointed to the broken snow globe. “I tried to transfer the storm’s magic into the snow globe to contain it. But controlling a storm requires a lot of concentration and I was too scared to focus. I managed to trap part of the storm, but before I had finished, I’d trapped myself, too.”

“The Snow Elf” continues tomorrow with Chapter 4.