'Twas the night before Christmas but all was not well. The reindeer, Santa found out, had decided to go on strike!
They had heard on TV about a strike by
So outside their stable, the reindeer organized. They made signs with catchy slogans, such as "Respect Reindeer Rights!"
Their demands: name-brand oats and herbal teas. Aromatherapy. Massages.
In exchange for their hard work of flying all over the world, they thought they should get spa vacations, reindeer facials and hoof pedicures.
They wanted daily yoga and step classes. And then they decided their stables were all wrong -- they needed feng shui!
One more item went on their list: They wanted better PR. If they only had agents ... After all, they were famous. It had worked for Rudolph; why not for the rest of them?
Outside Santa's Workshop, they picketed and chanted, "A stable united cannot be divided!" Indoors, at preliminary negotiations, the reindeer and the big guy literally locked horns.
"Oh dear," said Santa. (No pun intended.) "I must find a way for their gripes to be addressed."
He hemmed and he hawed, with no clue of what to do.
And then...
Santa called Mrs. Clause with his voice in such a frantic. “Mama, mama- the reindeer won’t stop! What do I do? “
“There is only one thing you can do dear.” Her voice settled with a comforting sound.
Santa knew what she was thinking. Had the reindeer been extra good, they usually got some imported lichen that they most certainly loved. But every so often, the reindeer got feisty and wanted some homemade apple-pie that was fresh from Mrs. Clause’s oven. Santa knew that reindeer couldn’t eat apple-pie. That was a preposterous idea.
But maybe, just maybe, this would work to end the strike.
He called into the winter air, he called them by name. He called them to the porch, this was no reindeer game. Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! Come on, Comet! Come on, Cupid! Come on, Donder and Blitzen!
It had to work he thought. He scratched his head and tugged at his beard. He waited by the window, “They won’t come!” His eyes widened, as mama opened the front door. They traipsed in, hoof by hoof, antler by antler, into the kitchen to a slice of freshly warm backed apple-pie.
The reindeer cheered and yelled in harmony, “We are so sorry. We just can’t stand all the talking of this apple-pie you do. It is so delicious, warm and sweet. The strike is off, there is no more you see. We will ride into the night and deliver presents to every Christmas tree.”
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