Harmonica Practice
A Sweet Sound in Santa’s Village
Strictly voluntary—but let’s be honest, wildly popular—harmonica practice sessions in Santa’s Village have become a beloved weekly tradition among elves of all kinds. From nimble-fingered toy painters to the burliest sleigh haulers, many elves find that a good harmonica session soothes the soul, sharpens the breath, and sends a ripple of joy through the snowy streets of Evela.
Most sessions are held in the glowing warmth of the Great Hearth Hall, where the giant fire roars behind ironstone grates, sending flickers of orange light dancing across the rafters. When the weather permits, the practice moves outdoors beneath the sweeping branches of the Great Fir Tree, a spot known for its perfect acoustics and soft mossy seating.
Elves gather in a loose semicircle: some perched on painted toadstools or candy-cane stools, others cross-legged on thick woven blankets. The seating may be varied, but the smiles are constant. Laughter often bubbles up even before the music starts.
Penny Tootle usually leads these joyful gatherings, her red curls bouncing and her eyes gleaming as she waves her peppermint baton. With boundless energy, she guides the group through warm-ups: breath control, single-note exercises, and elvish rhythm drills. Penny's catchphrase—“Let’s blow a bit o’ wonder into the world!”—never fails to prompt a spirited flurry of cheerful toots.
Songs range from elvish classics like Sugarplum Blues, Gingerbread Jig, and Snowdrift Shuffle to newly improvised jingles born right in the moment. One recent favorite, The Cookie Crumble Cadenza, was the result of a playful back-and-forth between two Shoe Elves who’d never met before that evening.
Harmonicas vary from shiny new chromatics to well-worn diatonics passed down through elven generations. Some are decorated with peppermint swirl stickers or tiny reindeer engravings, and more than one bears the faint scent of cinnamon—a mystery no one’s bothered to solve.
Experienced players like Whistle Nick and Breezy Nell weave through the gathering, offering tips or playful challenges. Advanced elves sometimes form a small rhythm group on spoons, washboard, and candy-jug bass. The spirit is one of sharing, not showing off. “Nobody plays a wrong note here,” Breezy is fond of saying. “Just notes that haven’t made up their minds yet.”
No harmonica session is complete without snacks. Trays of molasses buttons, cranberry twirls, and marshmallow puffs make the rounds, along with a bubbling pot of hot cocoa, stirred with striped cinnamon canes and served in jingle-bell mugs. On occasion, a mischievous elf might blow bubbles into their mug using a harmonica reed—not exactly encouraged, but always followed by laughter.
Special theme nights keep things fresh. One recent event, Harmonica Hula, had elves donning grass skirts over their snow boots and playing tropical tunes, while Silent Sleigh Jam challenged participants to play the quietest lullaby imaginable using only breathy ghost notes—a surprisingly moving experience that left even the Wrapping Department misty-eyed.
Practice always ends with a group performance, whether it's a classic melody or something entirely new, harmonized on the fly. Curious villagers often pause to listen. Sometimes, just outside the door, Santa himself can be found smiling quietly, harmonica in hand. And when the moment feels just right, he joins in—never the lead, always the harmony.
As Penny Tootle says, “When the whole room breathes together, it’s not just music—it’s magic.”
Update: 7-23-25