The next morning, the old man found nothing on his bedside table.
Not even any fruit.
He felt terribly disappointed.
He was even a little sad.
Had he gotten carried away?
Someone had gone to so much trouble to prepare gifts for him, and he'd still been so picky...
But when he woke from his nap that afternoon, he instinctively looked toward the bedside table.
His hazy mind cleared in an instant.
What was that?
A little purple flower!
And, of course, the usual fruit.
For a moment, the old man couldn't quite put his feelings into words.
He didn't know if he was happier or more touched.
He was relieved, too.
Relieved that the other person hadn't gotten angry with him.
The old man dabbed at the corners of his eyes.
"Thank you."
"...It must have taken you a long time to find it, right?"
He understood now. The gift had been so late today because the other person had gone to look for the present he wanted.
"Thank you. This old man was being unreasonable."
"But I'm really happy."
"Thank you."
The old man's granddaughter asked him what had happened to make him so happy.
He patted the child's head and said with a smile, "I met a kind elf."
That was right.
An elf.
The older he got, the harder it was for him to imagine how an ordinary person could put a gift on his bedside table every day.
And they could hear him, too.
He'd said the day before that he wanted a purple flower, and the next day the other person had really brought him one.
He had suspected the caregiver.
The caregiver was the most likely person to be able to do all this.
But after watching for a