On a December night in Chicago, 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
tousled haired 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 million copies of the booklet had been
given away or sold, making Rudolph one of the most widely distributed books
in the world. The demand for Rudolph sponsored products, increased so much
in variety and number that educators and historians predicted Rudolph would
come to occupy a permanent place in the Christmas legend.
