Listen to Robert L. May’s original story of Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer who was not allowed to join in any reindeer games. Until one Christmas Eve when Santa came calling… Watch the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ab-vkvYGFGs
Full Episode
The original Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer by Robert L. May. "'Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the hills the reindeer were playing, enjoying the spills of skating and coasting and climbing the willows and hopscotching and leapfrogging." protected by pillows. Well, every so often they'd stop to call names of one little deer, not allowed in their games.
Ha ha, look at Rudolph, his nose is a sight. It's red as a beet, twice as big, twice as bright. Well, Rudolph just wept. What else could he do? He knew that the things they were saying were true. where most reindeer's noses were brownish and tiny. Poor Rudolph's was red, very large, and quite shiny. In daylight, it dazzled. The picture shows that.
At nighttime, it glowed like the eyes of a cat, and putting dirt on it just made it look muddy. Oh boy, was he mad when they nicknamed him Ruddy. And though he was lonesome, he always was good, obeying his parents, as a good reindeer should. And that's why, on this day, Rudolph almost felt playful.
He hoped that from Santa, soon driving his sleigh full of presents and candy and dollies and toys for good little animals, good girls and boys, he'd get just as much, and this is what pleased him, as the happier, handsomer reindeer who teased him. So as night and a fog hid the world like a hood, He went to bed hopeful. He knew he'd been good.
Well, way, way up north, on this same foggy night, old Santa was packing his sleigh for the flight. This fog, he complained, will be hard to get through. He shook his round head and his tummy shook too. Without any stars or a moon as our compass, this extra dark night is quite likely to swamp us. To keep from collisions, we'll have to fly slow. To keep our direction, we'll have to fly low.
We'll steer by street lamps and houses tonight in order to finish before it gets light. Just think how the boys' and girls' faith would be shaken if we didn't reach them before they awakened. Come Dasher, come Dancer, come Prancer and Vixen, come Comet, come Cupid, come Donner and Blitzen. Be quick with your suppers, get hitched in a hurry. You too will find fog and delay in a worry.
And Santa was right, as he usually is. The fog was as thick as a soda's white fizz. Just not getting lost needed all Santa's skill, with street signs and numbers more difficult still. He tangled in treetops again and again and barely missed hitting a tri-motor plane. He still made good speed with much twisting and turning as long as the street lights and house lights were burning.
At each house, first noting the people who lived there, he'd quickly select the right presents to give there. By midnight, however, the last light had fled, for even big people had then gone to bed. Because it might waken them, a match was denied him. Oh my, how he wished he had just one star to guide him. Through dark streets and houses, old Santa fared poorly.
He now picked the presents more slowly, less surely. He really was worried. For what would he do if folks started waking before he was through? The air was still foggy, the night dark and drear, when Santa arrived at the home of the deer. Alleged that he tripped down while seeking the chimney, gave Santa a spill, a painfully skinned knee. The room he came down in was blacker than ink.
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