In 500... (or less)

For the Catalog

Robert chewed on the end of his pen. A Christmas story. A Christmas story with an animal. The ideas weren't coming to him.

There was a clatter from the other room.

"Evelyn, dear, I'll get that," he said without looking up from the blank paper on the table.

He let his mind drift for a moment, away from the task at hand to his sick wife. It wouldn't be long now. There was little the doctors could do for her.

The medical bills kept piling up. And he had a four-year-old daughter to worry about. His meager salary as a copywriter for the catalog just wasn't enough.

The empty paper beneath him loomed large, and reached up to grab his attention, pulling his eyes back down to it.

A Christmas animal. Donkey or a sheep? No, he wanted to steer clear of religious references. He didn't want to get mixed up in traditions.

"Barbara, honey," he beckoned to his little girl, "name your favorite animal."

The little girl dropped her doll and scurried into the room.

"A monkey, daddy! A monkey!"

Ha, he thought, that would be comical but not at all appreciated by his employer. They were not enthralled with being called "Monkey Ward's".

"I don't think that will work at all." He scooped her up and plopped her on his knee. "It's got to be something with Santa."

"Daddy!" He knew that voice. His toddler was about to point out something totally obvious that he missed.

"Everybody knows Santa loves reindeer!" By gosh, she was right. A reindeer.

He thanked her and shooed her away. His pen blazed forth onto the paper. A reindeer, yes. But what about the reindeer? A reindeer who wanted to take over for Santa? A reindeer who needed a vacation?

Robert chuckled to himself, thinking of illustrations for the Christmas catalog, with a reindeer wearing a Hawaiian shirt, priced at $2.95, relaxing in a beach chair and sipping on a lemonade. That wouldn't do at all.

He sat on the idea for a few days, before taking it to Gillen, one of the catalog artists.

"Don't know if I've ever seen one," Gillen said when Robert pitched the idea. "Maybe we ought to go to the zoo and have a look."

"Great idea," Robert said. "Let's meet up there on Saturday, so I can take Barbara and Evelyn. She'd never forgive me if she found out I went to the zoo without her."

"You got on without me," Evelyn insisted when Saturday rolled around. "I'm not feeling up to it."

The trio made their way to the reindeer pen at the Lincoln Park Zoo. Gillen shook his head.

"They're not exactly cuddly," he remarked. Inspiration struck Robert as his co-worker rambled about how to illustrate such a gangly beast.

"Let me see your sketch book," Robert implored. "You got it with you, right?"

He practically ripped it from Gillen's hand and started firing off notes.

"Ugly duckling-type story. Nobody likes the reindeer, but he's got a big heart and saves the day." He jotted down a few other ideas.

"A name. A name! Gillen, what was your grandfather's name?"

"Rudolph," the artist replied, baffled.

"Yes," Robert answered. "Rudolph. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."

Epilogue: Evelyn died on July 28, 1939, less a month before her husband before her husband, Robert L. May, finished his poem Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, who made his first appearance in the Montgomery Ward Christmas Book in 1939.