NK - A Yuletide Story
Brannon L. Bain
bbain at galstar.com
Fri Dec 18 07:11:10 PST 1998
I realize that the following story may have very little to do with the SCA
but I thought that all the storytellers in the group might enjoy the
information contained in the following passage.
Iyesu
On a December night in Chicago many years ago, a little girl climbed onto
her father's lap and asked a question. It was a simple question, asked in
children's curiosity, yet it had a heart-rending effect on Robert May.
"Daddy," four-year old Barbara asked, "Why isn't my Mommy just like
everybody else's mommy?"
Bob May stole a glance across his shabby two room apartment. On a couch lay
his young wife, Evelyn, racked with cancer. For two years she had been
bedridden; for two years, all Bob's income and smaller savings had gone to
pay for treatments and medicines.
The terrible ordeal already had shattered two adult lives. Now Bob suddenly
realized the happiness of his growing daughter was also in jeopardy. As he
ran his fingers through Barbara's hair, he prayed for some satisfactory
answer to her question.
Bob May knew only too well what it meant to be "different." As a child he
had been weak and delicate. With the innocent cruelty of children, his
playmates had continually goaded the stunted, skinny lad to tears. Later
at Dartmouth, from which he was graduated in 1926, Bob May was so small
that he was always being mistaken for someone's little brother.
Nor was his adult life much happier. Unlike many of his classmates who
floated from college into plush jobs, Bob became a lowly copy writer for
Montgomery Ward, the big Chicago mail order house. Now at 33 Bob was deep
in debt, depressed and sad. Although Bob did not know it at the time, the
answer he gave the little child on his lap was to bring him to fame and
fortune. It was also to bring joy to countless thousands of children like
his own Barbara.
On that December night in the shabby Chicago apartment, Bob cradled his
little girl's head against his shoulder and began to tell a story...
"Once upon a time there was a reindeer named Rudolph, the only reindeer in
the world that had a big red nose. Naturally people called him Rudolph the
Red Nosed Reindeer."
As Bob went on to tell about Rudolph, he tried desperately to communicate
to Barbara the knowledge that, even though some creatures of God are
strange and different, they often enjoy the miraculous power to make
others happy.
Rudolph, Bob explained, was terribly embarrassed by his unique nose. Other
reindeer laughed at him; his mother and father and sister were mortified
too. Even Rudolph wallowed in self pity.
"Well," continued Bob, "one Christmas Eve, Santa Claus got his team of
husky reindeer -Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Vixon ready for their yearly
trip around the world. The entire reindeer community assembled to cheer
these great heroes on their way. But a terrible fog engulfed the earth
that evening, and Santa knew that the mist was so thick he wouldn't be
able to find any chimney.
Suddenly Rudolph appeared, his red nose glowing brighter than ever. Santa
sensed at once that here was the answer to his perplexing problem. He led
Rudolph to the front of the sleigh, fastened the harness and climbed in.
They were off! Rudolph guided Santa safely to every chimney that night.
Rain and fog, snow and sleet; nothing bothered Rudolph, for his bright
nose penetrated the mist like a beacon.
And so it was that Rudolph became the most famous and beloved of all the
reindeer. The huge red nose he once hid in shame was now the envy of every
buck and doe in the reindeer world. Santa Claus told everyone that Rudolph
had saved the day and from that Christmas, Rudolph has been living
serenely and happy."
Little Barbara laughed with glee when her father finished. Every night she
begged him to repeat the tale until finally Bob could rattle it off in his
sleep. Then, at Christmas time he decided to make the story into a poem
like "The Night Before Christmas" and prepare it in bookish form
illustrated with pictures, for Barbara's personal gift.
Night after night, Bob worked on the verses after Barbara had gone to bed
for he was determined his daughter should have a worthwhile gift, even
though he could not afford to buy one...
Then as Bob was about to put the finishing touches on Rudolph, tragedy
struck. Evelyn May died. Bob, his hopes crushed, turned to Barbara as
chief comfort. Yet, despite his grief, he sat at his desk in the quiet,
now lonely apartment, and worked on "Rudolph" with tears in his eyes.
Shortly after Barbara had cried with joy over his handmade gift on
Christmas morning, Bob was asked to an employee's holiday party at
Montgomery Wards. He didn't want to go, but his office associates
insisted. When Bob finally agreed, he took with him the poem and read it to
the crowd.
First the noisy throng listened in laughter and gaiety. Then they became
silent, and at the end, broke into spontaneous applause.
That was in 1938. By Christmas of 1947, some 6,000,000 copies of the
booklet had been given away or sold, making Rudolph one of the most widely
distributed books in the world. The interest in Rudolph has increased so
much that the tale has come to occupy a permanent place at Christmas.
Through the years of unhappy circumstance, the tragedy of his wife's death,
and his ultimate success with Rudolph, Bob May has captured a sense of
serenity. And as each Christmas comes, he recalls with thankfulness the
night he prayed for an answer when his daughter, Barbara, asked that
difficult question.
So now we know, Rudolf is not just a piece of Holiday fluff, but is the
answer to prayer given to a devoted father as a gift to his child.
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