“My father made me one iron reindeer in 1963 so I wouldn’t be scared of the dark. I’ve made nine thousand since — and now I have to stop.” — Why a 69-year-old blacksmith from Ely, Minnesota is selling her last hand-forged reindeer at a special price, before her forge goes cold for good.

At half past four on a December afternoon, the sky over Ely, Minnesota is already black. Marit Tveit strikes a match and lights the first candle of the evening. It always goes into the same little reindeer, on the same kitchen windowsill.

The reindeer is bent from old welding wire. Its belly is a small tin cup. It is 63 years old.

“That one goes first. Every night. Then the rest of the herd.”

Marit is 69. She is a retired shop teacher, and for 37 winters she has made iron reindeer in a small workshop behind her house. Just reindeer. Nothing else. More than 9,000 of them, every one made by her own two hands.

The night her father brought home a reindeer

It was Christmas 1963. Marit was six. Her father Arvid worked in the iron mine at the edge of town. The winter nights up north are long, and little Marit was afraid of the dark.

One evening Arvid came home from the mine with something in his coat pocket. A tiny reindeer, bent from leftover welding wire, with a tin cup for a belly. He put a candle in it and set it on her windowsill.

“He said, ‘Now there’s somebody keeping watch.’ I was six. I believed him. I still sort of do.”

Her father died in 1988. That winter, Marit went out to the shed, lit the forge and bent her first reindeer. She has made them every winter since.

Two hours and seven antler points for every single reindeer

The workshop is barely bigger than a one-car garage. There is a small coal forge, an anvil, a vise and a wall full of pliers. In the corner stands an old kitchen stove from 1971. That is where the dark red finish gets baked onto every reindeer. It smells of coal and hot iron.

Marit picks up a glowing rod and bends the seventh antler point without looking up.

“Seven points on every antler. Six looks lazy. Eight looks like a coat rack.”

Each reindeer takes her about two hours. The legs, the neck, the antlers, the cup, the baked finish. In a good winter she makes 250. That is all one pair of hands can do.

What 37 winters taught her about a candle in the window

Ask Marit what makes a good reindeer, and she doesn’t talk about looks. She talks about what happens on a cold windowsill at night.

• “The Deep-Cup Seat”: The belly is a round cup, about two inches wide. The tealight sits low inside it, so it doesn’t tip if someone bumps the windowsill. “Same idea as my father’s tin cup,” she says. “He got that part right the first time.”
• “The Seven-Point Antler”: Every antler has seven points, each one bent by hand. When the candle is lit, the antlers throw a shadow on the wall that looks like winter branches.
• “The Four-Leg Stance”: Four long, thin legs on a tiny footprint. The reindeer stands steady on even the narrowest windowsill, and several fit in a row, one behind the other.
• “The Oven-Baked Finish”: The dark red finish is baked on in her old stove. It doesn’t rust next to a cold window, and candle wax wipes right off.

Each one is about five inches tall. Small enough for any windowsill. Big enough to be the first thing you see from the street.

One reindeer is a decoration. Five is a herd.

In Ely, people give Marit’s reindeer for weddings, for a new baby, for the first winter in a new house. Many families come back every December for one more. After a few years, there is a whole little herd in the window.

“One reindeer is a decoration. Five in a row, that’s a herd. That’s when people start talking to them.”

Walk down Sheridan Street on a December night and you can count them in the windows. Little flames in a row, in a town where it is dark by half past four.

The day the doctor took away her hammer

What Marit will miss most is the quiet hour in the morning. The forge warming up. The first ring of the hammer at six o’clock, while the rest of the town is still asleep.

This spring, her right shoulder gave out. A torn rotator cuff, from 37 years of swinging a hammer. She can still bend the legs. But every antler point needs dozens of blows on the anvil, with her arm raised high. The doctor in Duluth was clear: one more winter at the anvil, and she may never lift that arm over her head again.

“I can still make a fist. I just can’t make an antler.”

So this is the end. The forge goes out after this winter. The anvil goes to a young blacksmith in the next town. What is on her shelves now is all there will ever be: 312 reindeer.

Why she said no to a store in Minneapolis

For 30 years, a Tveit reindeer cost $12 at the Christmas fair in the church hall. A hand-forged piece like this sells for $60 or more in a city gallery. When word got out that she was stopping, a store in Minneapolis offered to buy all 312 at once.

Marit said no. She doesn’t want her last reindeer sitting in a shop window with a price tag. She wants each one to go to a family, and to burn on a windowsill.

“A reindeer without a candle is just a bent piece of iron.”

Her granddaughter Annika, a teacher in Duluth, set up a small online shop so people from outside Ely can get one too. She photographs the reindeer on Marit’s kitchen table and packs every box herself. The price stays low on purpose. Whoever takes one of the last reindeer is putting a little of Arvid’s window into their own.

What families say about Marit’s reindeer

• ★★★★★

  “Smaller than I pictured, about the size of a mug, but that’s exactly why it works. I ordered four and they fit perfectly in a row on our kitchen windowsill.”

  Karen B., Eau Claire, WI
• ★★★★★

  “I light them every night at supper. The antler shadows on the wall are the prettiest thing in the house in December.”

  Diane H., Cedar Rapids, IA
• ★★★★★

  “Bought one for my daughter’s first Christmas in her own home. I told her the story about the father and the welding wire. She keeps it lit by the front door.”

  Patricia N., Rochester, MN

Three questions people ask before ordering

Where can I buy one of Marit’s reindeer?

Only through this page. Her reindeer are not sold on Amazon, Temu or in any store.

How long will they be available?

Only while supplies last. There are 312 reindeer left, and Marit will not make any more. When they are gone, they are gone.

What if it’s not right for me?

You have 30 days to try it at home. If you are not happy, just send a short email and you will get your money back. No questions, no hassle.

More from families who brought one home

• ★★★★★

  “You can tell it was made by hand. The antlers on my two aren’t exactly the same, and I love that. Nothing from a big store looks like this.”

  Linda S., Fargo, ND
• ★★★★★

  “The candle sits deep in the cup, so I don’t worry with the grandkids running around. Sturdy little thing.”

  Margaret O., Green Bay, WI
• ★★★★★

  “My grandmother had something just like this on her windowsill in Hibbing. Ordered three so my sisters each get one too.”

  Susan R., Saint Cloud, MN