Fairy tale about elves

The elf named Hoppity was a tiny man with disheveled hair and a big, adorable smile. He wore a green coat, red pants, and a green hat. He walked around the world, skipping and singing as he went. Or at least humming something all the time. He was simply a very cheerful small chap. Because he was smiling all the time, he didn’t like when someone around him was in a bad mood. As soon as he met someone sad or weighed down by worries, he tried to cheer them up with all he had.

In the middle of one deep forest, there was a small pond. A rock jutted out next to it, covered in thick ferns. Behind the ferns, a huge secret was hiding.

Far away from here, there is a small, pretty village. Several small houses with colorful roofs stand there, a few trees grow there, and many flowers too. A small river runs past this village. It looks like any other river, but very few know that this river is a home to the river sprites. Their tiny houses are hiding all along the river. They are these small chambers and tunnels dug under the banks.

If you look up at the sky in the evening, when the clouds have all gone to bed and they aren’t wandering across the sky anymore, you will see stars above you everywhere. It’s like a black cloak covered in glitter. Some of them shine brightly, some faintly. If you look really well, you will spot a small light that jumps from one star to the next. That little light is Morning Star. A fairy of the night sky who watches over the stars and the moon, and when the time is right, she wakes the sun so that it would rise into the sky. She gives good morning to the sun. That’s why she’s called Morning Star.

Evening had fallen. The moon appeared in the sky, with stars flickering around it, and no lights were shining in the windows anymore. Everyone in the city was already asleep. It was deep in the night. But although it was this late and no one was awake anymore, quiet rustling could be heard under one little boy’s bed. It was inside little Vince’s room.

In a land far, far away, there stood a cottage. It looked like a gingerbread house, but it wasn’t one. It was made completely from wood. Its windows were painted, and fragrant wood smoke always rose from its chimney. Inside this cottage lived a fairytale grandfather. He was the best at telling fairytales. Children and animals from far and wide would come to him to listen to his stories.

In a magical, fairytale land there lived a lot of imps. They lived nicely beneath the ground in their den. It was warm and cozy. They were good imps. They made sure that things above ground were in order and kept a nice fire going below the ground. If someone was being unjust or mean, they took them to their den for some time and put them to work. But if someone was kind, they helped them with their magical spells.