The Littlest Reindeer Tam was the littlest reindeer in the herd. Born at the end of spring he had no idea what winter meant. Ice startled him. His thick coat warmed him. And snowflakes tasted like magic on his tongue. Tam and his friends raced through the powder, tossing snow like mist behind their heels. Clean white fields churned into rolling lumps, and Tam was happy. But then he got hungry and realized all the grass was buried deep. His mother told him to dig with his nose, but ice crystals tickled his nostrils and made him sneeze. Then the snow crusted his eyes and made them hurt. One winter’s night, Tam woke in the dark and found the herd preparing for a long journey. Everyone stood with heads bent to the ground, making snuffling sounds as they pawed and ate the grass. Tam’s mother said she’d been trying to wake him for ages. “Why? Where are we going?” But she wouldn’t say. Tam thought he’d rather just sleep and not go anywhere, but didn’t want to be left behind on his own. So he chomped some grass, sneezed a bit, and stepped into line. Soon the reindeer were gliding through trees, making hardly a sound, stepping softly on carpets of snow. “Is it time?” a rabbit asked a hare. “The deer are running.” “Let’s follow them.” The forest rustled with tiny whispers of noise, paws padding through shadows while snowflakes drifted. And the deer marched on. Tam sulked at the very back of the herd and thought how much he wished he were still asleep. Soon he was drifting far behind and had to run to catch up. He skipped over rocks and bounded high in the air over broken tree-roots, which was really quite fun. Then he jumped over a long black log and found he’d gone over a cliff. Tam landed on a slippery slope of snow and couldn’t stay still. He stuck his legs out sideways to slow himself down. Then he lay on his stomach in a snowdrift and tried to catch his breath. A teardrop trickled down his nose and froze till he sneezed it away, then another one formed. “Stop sniveling,” said a voice somewhere above Tam’s head. Tam looked up into the rustling branches of a tree. Was the tree talking? His mother had told him never to speak to strangers, and a talking tree was definitely strange. But he thought he’d better at least apologize. “I’m sorry,” said Tam. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I promise I’ll stop crying.” He tried to slide away from the tree, but he couldn’t see where he was going. The cliff rose up like a wall into the sky, snow fell like a blanket, and trees all around made the snow-covered ground invisible. So he stayed where he was. Suddenly Tam heard a snuffling at his feet and saw a rabbit. “Hello, Rabbit,” said Tam. “What are you doing?” “I’m waiting for my family.” Tam watched a whole herd of rabbits march out from the trees. They carried twigs on their shoulders, and each twig had a bag of food tied to its end, all wrapped in leaves. Squirrels scampered up as well, with strings of nuts tied around their necks. “Where’s everyone going?” Tam asked. “We’re following the deer.” Oh good, thought Tam. Perhaps if he followed the rabbits and squirrels, he’d find his herd again. He started to skip and jump till he realized he might step on the smaller animals. “I’m sorry. Sorry. So sorry…” A rabbit sucked its wounded paw and said, “That’s quite all right. But do get going. I’m cold.” “How can I get going?” asked Tam. “I was going to follow you.” “No, silly,” said the rabbit. “You’re a deer. You have to lead.” Tam almost started to cry again but remembered his promise to the tree. Instead he sat in the snow and groaned. “I can’t lead anyone. I don’t know the way.” The other animals all cried then instead. An owl swooped overhead and landed in the tree, which shook its branches angrily, sending owl and snowflakes tumbling to the ground. “Tu whoo,” said the owl. “Hello,” said Tam. “Aren’t you an owl?” “Yes of course I’m an owl. Who else would say ‘Tu whoo’?” “I don’t know,” said Tam. “Well, of course you don’t. You’re just a silly little deer.” The owl seemed rather snooty, and Tam didn’t like it very much, but his mother always said owls are wise, so he asked for help anyway. “I don’t know where the deer go,” said the owl. “That’s their secret. I just follow them.” The owl flew up onto Tam’s shoulder and added, “Sometimes I ride with them.” “Well, you can’t follow me,” said Tam. “I don’t know where I’m going. But if you fly up and see the deer, maybe you could lead us to them.” “I don’t think so,” said the owl. “It’s snowing. If I fly up high, I won’t see anything, and you won’t see me.” Tam started to cry. “You again,” said the tree, throwing snowballs at Tam’s nose. “I’m sorry,” said Tam. “I’m just so miserable.” “Well, go and be miserable somewhere else. I’m trying to rest.” One of the baby squirrels squeaked bravely. “But Mr. Tree, aren’t you following the deer?” “Certainly not! As if I’d go gallivanting around the countryside at my age!” Tam tried to imagine a tree running around and almost laughed—what would it use for feet? Then he asked, “Can you really walk if you want to?” “Of course.” “Can you see where you’re going?” “There’d be no point walking if I couldn’t.” “And you’re very tall.” Tam paused, his nose glowing slightly as an idea formed in his mind. “Please,” he said to the tree. “Please can you look where the deer have gone and tell us how to find them?” “Will you go away if I tell you?” “Yes. I promise.” “Like you promised not to cry?” “No. Better than that.” “Well, they went thataway.” Tam looked around. “Which way?” “Thataway.” “But which way is that?” Poor Tam couldn’t see which way the tree was pointing, and neither could anyone else. “Please, Mr. Tree, you’ve got so many branches I don’t know which ones are your hands. I’ll never find my herd” Now all the animals were crying again. Their snuffling and whimpering and wailing made the tree shake so angrily it pulled its roots right out the ground till they were stamping in snow. The feel of loose earth around its roots made the old tree feel young again, so it hummed a merry tune and danced a waltz. The animals stared, amazed. “Please,” said Tam, rather nervously, when the tree stopped dancing. “Yes,” said the tree, leaning down, dripping snow on his nose. “Please, now you’re walking anyway, could you show us the way to the deer?” “Oh, very well.” The old tree groaned. “But afterward you must promise never to annoy me ever again.” “We promise,” all the animals said. They made a very strange procession. The old tree creaked in the lead, and Tam hurried next to it with the owl on his back. Smaller animals sat in the roots of the tree. Beavers and badgers scurried behind. Swallows and starlings swooped among the branches. Soon the whole forest seemed to move as younger trees lifted their feet, or perhaps their roots, to join in. They crossed over fields of snow, rivers of ice, and deserts of drifting sand. They climbed mountains and battled winds and gales. They swam through deep-flowing seas. And everywhere they went, more animals rushed to join them. At last they came to a cold bright place where a star turned midnight into day. Sheep grazed on the hills, and Tam called out, “Have you seen a herd of deer going this way?” “Yes,” said the sheep. They pointed with their noses and everyone followed. Just over the next hill they found the deer gathered around the entrance to a stable. The owl flew up into the tree for a better view, while Tam rushed to his mother. He nuzzled her side to say sorry for getting lost, and she licked his nose. Then they both stared into the cave where a baby lay surrounded by shepherds with lambs and rich men with camels. “Who are they all?” asked Tam. “I don’t know,” said his mother. “But I know the baby’s a king and all these people are giving him presents.” When the shepherds and kings had all gone away, the animals and trees made their way into the stable. Birds dropped feathers to make soft pillows. Rabbits and squirrels gave tufts of fur for a blanket. Even the trees made carpets of leaves on the floor. Last of all, the reindeer marched in. Their leader had antlers reaching to the sky and a nose as red as sunshine on a clear day. He bent his head low over the baby. “I’m here,” he said. “I’ve brought my herd. We’re ready to keep our promise.” Then the baby’s messenger fastened a sleigh to all the reindeer and they started to fly, over seasons and settlements and countries and years, through peace-time and war-time and happiness and tears, bringing gifts to all ages and times for the baby’s birthday. “But we didn’t give him a gift,” said Tam as they flew. “Yes, we did,” said his mother. “Keeping the promise is our gift.”
~~~
Sheila Deeth, in her first story from A Christmas Anthology provided me a new insight on our celebrating the birth of Christ, at the same time that Santa Claus, for so many, has seemingly taken predominance on this, the most important birthday date of all...
Perhaps my own opinion has been because I don't remember Santa being a part of my own life. We would get candy and, perhaps, oranges from church... My mother didn't have the money to buy lots of gifts for her four children as is done these days. I remember that, routinely she told us that she would get us one gift for the family. The only one that made an impression for remembering was the year she got us a croquet set. We all had fun enjoying that "family gift..." And, we all sang carols of Christmas as part of the day's celebration... It was a quiet joy, an awareness that Jesus had been born this day so many years ago... I miss those events...
Sheila's story of connection of animals to Christmas, especially reindeers, was, in my opinion, inspired. Jesus was given gifts that day, even from The Little Drummer Boy... and, from the reindeers! They would forever spread the gift of Jesus throughout the ages...
This anthology covers the full types of events that now occurs on Christmas Day... And all of them gave me a different, new perspective... There are ten stories that spotlight that most wonderful event that occurred...
A present for Sammy continues the role of animals within a family... Sammy was an ordinary dog--a brown and white mongrel with wavy hair and tail and floppy ears. Sammy was yet to have his first birthday, so everything was new to him... Especially the cold snowflakes that came falling down. He was so close to the ground, he felt the cold, maybe, more than the family members so he wanted to go back inside where it was warm... Soon, all the family were asleep upstairs, but Sammy slept on the main floor--the floor where he saw a strange man come in. Should he bark to let the family know? But, soon, the man had come over to talk to him and even share his food! He was especially happy when, before he left, he pulled out a box to be unwrapped that was marked, "Sammy!"
And then there was the time when the children at school were making cards for Christmas to give to others and one student asked about his home, which had no chimney! What would Santa do? Well, that night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring... Michael was awakened by Santa trying to get in!
Again, the animals are spotlighted as the sheep, who were being shepherded on a hill were not the least bit afraid, as they saw what was happening in the skies. But the sheep began to stray... what would happen if they traveled too far away?
A child knew the beginning of a song...Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star... Anna now asleep, her mother left, having turned off the music. But Anna's mother kept thinking of the song and how she wished she had a second child for them to sing together... But, it was not allowed--only one child per couple... So the mother contented herself making doll clothes for her daughter's new doll house... The couple watched as the stars began to shine--but they weren't sure whether they were really stars or was it a rocket poised for destruction? She wished she could... remember the lines to that song...
THANK YOU SHEILA DEETH FOR
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