Santa Claus and his Reign Deer

Let me tell you a story, a tale of woe, The story of Santa, before you all go, This is a tale, of one they called Nick, Who lived a hard life, that would make some people sick, A tale to be told, around this time of year, A story of woe, which brings most eyes's to tear, 'Bout a balding old man, with a long beard of white, Who lived way up North, far away out of sight, He lived up on the tundra, in a make-shift-shack, There he tried keeping warm, burning dropping of Yak, Life on the tundra, is never too kind, You must fight to keep living, and eat all you can find, Then one cold winter’s Day, many long years ago, Old Nick was out hunting, on the tundra in snow, The wind bitterly blowing, snow swirling about, Nick was in trouble, yet the snow drowned his shout,
























Then out in the distance, a light did appear, In the swirling snow, his heart filled with fear, The light then descended, setting down on the ground, From the light came a voice, which spoke without any sound, The voice said to Nick, "Nick, you've had a hard life." "But now this will change, I shall give you a wife." Yet here with a mate, this task is your quest." "Dedicate eternity to Christmas, forsaking the rest." "Service to children! That is my command!" "Bearing gifts to all children, whatever they demand!" "Oh, great light that speaks.", said Nick in trembling voice, "What", said the light, "You've not got a choice!" So, Nick stood erect, yet trembling with fright, And the next that he knew, he was wearing red, trimmed with white! Dressed now, in garb which he wasn't accustom, Said Nick to himself, "Why should I trust him?" "Calm all your fears Nick.", said the voice from the light, "With new clothes, comes a new name, which I'm sure will delight!" From Northern Siberia, you'll be "Santa the Red!". Said Nick to the voice, "I don't quite like that name." "Let's think it over, no sense in us rushin', Please don't name me after some old commie Russian!" "Perhaps Nick, your right, just what would you suggest?" "Is there another name, which you wouldn't detest?" "What's wrong with just 'Nicholas'?", said Nick with a smile, "That's not a name which any would find vile.", So Nick got his way, and his job he does "saintly", Now we call him "Saint Nicholas", But his buddies now call him "Saint Nick", Now I've this story to finish! Don't let me digress!

I've told you the story of his name, and how he is dressed! There's still more to tell, I'll get to it now, The story of his sleigh, and his dozen reign deer, I know, there is only eight now, just wait you'll find out why, Be patient for now, there's no reason to cry, So the voice said to Nick, who was picking fleas from his beard, "You'll soon fly in the sky, please don't be scared!" "You gotta' be kiddin' me!", said Nick, "That silly!" "You'll fly in a sleigh, powered by a horse named Billy." (You know that's not true, of course!)















...Here's why. "Your first task Saint Nick, is to find a stallion or mare, It must be a worthy beast, of what gender I don't care." "Now where on the Tundra of Northern Siberia, Will I find a horse? You only see Yak!" "Well, sometimes you see deer too, but what good is that?" Said the light to Nick, "You've done it again by Joe!" "Now find me some bucks, and a half-dozen doe!" Said Nick, "Powered by deer, with a sleigh at the rear, To fly in the sky, light, find some other guy!" "Trust me", said the light, "You have no reason to fear, Sit down, relax, here's a bottle of beer!" "What kind of beer?", said Nick with suspicion,



"Why, a 'lite' beer of course, what else would I keep?" Now Nick sat down, resting his touche, Pondering his decision, sipping Anheiser Busch So Nick sitting down in the snow, he was at quite a loss, "Alright, I'll do it, but I gotta be the boss!" So Nick gathered his reign deer, a dozen to the pack, Lead by a yak, his favorite of course, the one he called "Jack", Well, Jack didn't work out, and chased away four of his deer, So Nick let him go, then finished off his six-pack of beer,

When the light finally returned, the deer were transformed, That each one could fly, which to Nick he forewarned, Then the light it is told, gave Nick a contract for life, He asked both to sign it, ...yes, Nick and his wife, With one stipulation, that on each Christmas Eve, That this time with your wife, you must of her take leave, Delivering presents to kids all over the world, that is your cause, In the contract we'll call this, the "Santa Clause", So, Santa agreed, and was given a sack, It made all the toys easier to pack, This is the end, the end of this story, The rest as you know, is just more history!






…..Merry Christmas!