Snow fell in soft, shimmering flakes as the Thompson family stepped off the tiny plane and into the heart of Lapland. The air smelled of pine trees and winter magic, and little Emma squeezed her mittens in excitement.
“Do you think we’ll see him?” she whispered, eyes wide behind frosted glasses.
Her older brother Luca grinned. “If Santa’s anywhere, he’s here.”
Their parents laughed, brushing snow from their coats as they followed a lantern-lined path toward their cabin. The wooden lodge glowed with warm yellow light, and the windows were rimmed with frost like delicate lace. Inside, a fireplace crackled merrily, and mugs of hot berry juice waited on the table as if placed there by invisible hands.
The next morning, the family bundled into their warmest clothes and joined a group heading deep into the snow-dusted forest. The trees stood tall and silent, their branches bowed under layers of white. Suddenly, a soft jingling drifted through the air.
Emma froze. “Did you hear that?”
Out from behind a snowbank popped a small figure—no taller than Emma, wearing a red hat with a jingling bell at the tip. His cheeks were rosy, and his smile stretched from ear to ear.
“Well now!” the elf chirped. “You must be the Thompsons! Santa’s been expecting you.”
Before they could reply, the elf motioned them forward, leading them through winding, sparkling paths until they reached a clearing. There, nestled beneath a cluster of snowy pines, stood Santa’s Village—colorful wooden buildings, glowing lights, and elves bustling about with armfuls of toys.
Santa himself sat in a grand, cushioned chair by a towering Christmas tree. His beard was snowy white, his coat thick and bright, and his eyes twinkled with the kind of warmth that melted even the coldest winter.
“Ho, ho, ho! Welcome, my friends!” Santa boomed. “I’ve heard you’ve traveled far to visit Lapland.”
Emma ran into his arms, giggling as Santa lifted her effortlessly. Luca shook Santa’s hand, trying to look composed but failing to hide his excitement.
After sharing wishes, stories, and cookies baked by the elves, Santa clapped his hands. “I believe it’s time for a sleigh ride!”
Outside, reindeer pawed at the snow, eager to run. The family climbed into a wooden sleigh lined with fur blankets, and as the elves gave a cheerful wave, the reindeer trotted off—then lifted, soaring slightly above the ground, gliding over the sparkling landscape.
The world became a blur of snowflakes and laughter.
That night, back at their cabin, Emma whispered, “I don’t ever want to forget this day.”
“You won’t,” Luca said, watching the Northern Lights shimmer across the sky. “No one forgets a Christmas in Lapland.”
And as the colors danced above the snowy rooftops, the family huddled together, warm, happy, and certain that a little magic still lingered in the air.
Therapy Bits 
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