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Three days before Christmas Eve, an elf burst into my house, frantic. “Dasher is missing!” he cried. “Santa needs your help!”
At the North Pole, Santa explained, “Dasher vanished during a trial run. We’ve searched everywhere.”
I had an idea. “What if he followed the Northern Lights?” Santa nodded, hope flickering. An inventive elf named Spark handed me enchanted goggles. “These track reindeer magic,” she said.
With Rudolph leading the way, I followed the shimmering trail through snowy mountains. Hours later, we found Dasher trapped in a snowdrift, his antlers tangled in ice.
“I chased the lights too far,” Dasher admitted, shivering.
We freed him and returned to Santa’s workshop, where cheers erupted. Santa hugged Dasher and turned to me, his eyes twinkling. “You’ve saved Christmas.”
That night, I went home with a warm heart, knowing the magic of Christmas was safe. 2 replies
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