What Santa Really Said to Rudolph

Merry Christmas! This is a birthday present to my niece but my hope is that there will be meaning in it for you as well.

I remember the day you, my first niece (and first every baby in my life), were born. I know you’ve heard this story before but as you are a Winter Solstice and Christmas Time baby and today is your birthday some new things have occurred to me about this auspicious occasion that I think fitting for a share in our season of Hope.

As you know, but our reader’s do not, you were born on December 21st, on the day that I was playing my first lead role in a play: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. I was Rudolph (gender bending before it had a name) – why? Because Dean Perkins didn’t get the part and I did – Ha! (Did I mention I was praying for more charity in my heart this Christmas?) I still have work to do.

Yep. That’s me as Rudolph. Battery pack electrifying the nose and everything.

I wore a loose-fitting reindeer onesie suit with a battery pack at the base of my neck which ran two small wires up the back of my head under a reindeer “hood” with antlers, over my forehead and down my heavily painted face and nose where science and spark created a red beaming light on the tip of my nose – that is, when I clicked the little on/off button on the battery pack. All very high tech.

This was professional children’s theatre with loads of school children bused in and out of the thousand seat theatre every morning and afternoon for two weeks. It was theatre in the round. And my parents could find me off stage in the backstage concourse area awaiting entrances if needed.

I remember your birthday because I received the news during performance. I remember exactly where I was, what scene, and how it happened.

Why? Because the beautiful and monumental life changing occurrences are imprinted in our hearts immortal. And you, Jeffers, were that.

Mom and Bob (my stepfather) crept up to me with enormous smiles on their faces but also aware that I had an impending entrance. They whispered:

     “You are an aunt! …A little girl!”

And suddenly what I thought was my own light must have been yours beaming through me for suddenly my nose positively SHONE. (I think it must have made that little beaming sound as well.)

     “Reallllllyyyyyy?” For this was the word I held to express all the facets of joy I felt in that moment.

And then I had to go onstage. But here is where memory is a funny thing. For you would think that’s the end of the imprint. Nope.

For in this scene, as my presence was being requested by the Big Guy himself - Santa - I now carried you with me. You were there, Jenny! You, at perhaps an hour old, were upon the boards.

Here is what Santa had to say:

You must go do something you may not think you can do. You must use a talent you were born with, something that could only have come from your Creator, and you must summon up more courage than you’ve ever had or used or thought you were capable of - and you must summon it right now. This night. It will be foggy. It will be dark. The night will be long.

You will lead.

There will be sharp turns, short stops, steep inclines, zero-to-ninety speeds, some deep dives that feel like free falls, bumpy landings and rickety take-offs.

No doubt you weren’t expecting this and perhaps feel you aren’t ready or prepared, that you’re too young or not skilled enough.

But you will not be alone. I will have the reigns. I will direct your course. You will have a team of support behind you. The support, in a plot twist, will come from those who’ve had a change of heart; those, whom you will lead, who haven’t been very nice to you in the past. Some who have demeaned and hurt you for the very simple reason that you are you; for the gifting that you were given at birth.

Your red beaming shining unforgettable light at the tip of your nose.

But now, continues the Big Guy, we see why you were born with that red nose. For as with most crucial moments in life, it was only known by the great Knower who always goes before.

And yes, Rudolph, the joke is on us.

But also the merciful blessing. For if you say yes, many will find hope and their faith will be sustained.

They will believe.

So Rudolph, said Santa quite seriously, hands on hips, feet set apart - can you do it? Will you do it?

And as I stood there this particular December 21st morning, feeling the weight of his words (and the battery pack) – I felt something new. The weight was not unbearable. It was carried by a life. The life of this little girl who I couldn’t wait to rip of the wires (along with a few hairs at my widow’s peak stuck to the latex glue) to meet for the first time. In fact I didn’t have to do anything but say the one word that would change the course of history (as the song relays).

Yes.

I said “Yes, I can do it Santa! I can do anything today, tonight, and beyond! For I have the strength that has just been given me!”

“I, Santa, and am AUNT!”

And my nose beamed. And Christmas happened for one more performance with a jaunty tap dance and a few rounds of We Wish You A Merry Christmas.

I remember the day you were born. One of the first days I really understood what it meant to say yes to questions of courage and boldness in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds - because another counted on it.

That, Jennifer, is what blew in with the wind Christmas when you were born.

Say yes. Push through. You are not alone. You are supported. And yes, many do depend on you. But here’s the great mercy: it’s done through you. Let go, be willing and know that whatever you are called to do, you will not only be given more strength you ever thought possible, but it will – it WILL – be completed. That’s a promise.

Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas.

Love,

Aunt Fleur (a/k/a Rudolph)