For We Have Seen His Star
A rescue ranger christmas tale
by David White
Music by Mannheim Steamroller
“I don’ wanna stay here!” Kevin cried. “I wanna go home! MY home!!”
Kevin’s mother tried the impossible. To calm a distraught five-year-old squirrel who had convinced himself that Christmas would pass him by this year.
“Kevin, you know our home was pulled down by the silver thaw.” his mother said. “But we have this nice, snug, new home thanks to the Rescue Rangers.”
Those Rangers stood nearby. They had been prepared to take their leave when Kevin’s air-raid wail had frozen them in their tracks. The Christmas ice storm had lasted only a morning, a rare event for Los Angeles. But those few hours had been enough to bring one of Elysian Park’s huge trees, along with it’s animal residents, thundering down.
The Rescue Rangers had responded at once, helping the injured (in a Christmas miracle, no one was killed), recovering household goods, and finding homes for the victims. These three squirrels, The Davis family, were the last to settle in. Though it now looked like settling was the last thing on Kevin’s mind.
“We’re gonna miss Christmas!” he sobbed. “Santa’ll never find us here! We don’ even have a chimumney!”
“It’s all electric, Kevin,” his father said, in a totally unsuccessful attempt to be reasonable. “And Santa always finds a way to bring presents.”
Gadget knelt down and held Kevin gently by the shoulders. “Your dad’s right, Kevin. Santa always finds all the good girls and boys. And he always finds a way to bring your presents.”
“He can’t find us!” Kevin cried. “He’s got the wrong addy-ess now! I asked for somthin’ extra-special for mommy and daddy, and now Santa’s gonna get lost!!” He turned away and sobbed into his mother’s dress.
His father led the Rangers to the door, a bit embarrassed by his son’s outburst. “Don’t worry. He’ll be fine when he sees that Santa came just the same.”
“But what a way to spend Christmas Eve,” Gadget said sadly. “Thinking that you’ll wake up and find that Christmas missed your home.”
“Too right, Gadget-luv,” Monty said. “But we can’t bring Christmas early, now.”
“We don’t have to, Monty,” Gadget said as a smile began to grow. “We just have to help him believe in Christmas.”
“Mr. Davis, we’ll be back. Come on, fellas.” Gadget said, hurrying them out the door.
“What have you got in mind, Gadget?” Chip asked, turning his coat collar up against the chill of the evening. Even Dale had given up his beloved Hawaiian shirt for a snug parka and stocking cap.
“I’ll tell you on the way, and I’m going to need your help.”
* * *
Shortly thereafter, a strange procession made it’s way across the park lawn. A decidely Ranger-esque trio, each with a wrapped gift in hand, and all clad in colorful turbans, great flowing beards and terrycloth bathrobes approached the Davis’ front door and knocked.
“We are three Kings from out of the East,” Chip declared to the startled Mrs. Davis. “We have traveled far to bring Christmas cheer to those who think Christmas may pass them by.” He finished with a wink, and Mrs. Davis smiled warmly.
“You are most welcome, pilgrims,” she proclaimed. “My son Kevin could use some cheering up.”
The unlikely monarchs made their way to a spot near the Christmas tree, where Kevin stood open-mouthed at the sight of his storybook pages come to life. Nearby, Mr. Davis started a video camera. This would be a moment great-grandchildren would one day cherish.
“Who are you?” Kevin said, overawed.
“Oh...er...” Monterey stammered at the unexpected question. “I am the King of the Far-Off Places. From Cucamunga to Coober Peddy, I’m the King of ‘em all, mate. And I bring you a gift from the Far-Off Places to make a Merry Christmas.”
He handed Kevin the package, and it’s wrapping quickly succumbed to his eager assault. Inside were trinkets and knick-knacks from places as distant as Akron and Zanzibar. Kevin ohhhed and ahhhed at the mysteries of the world. Monterey sometimes wondered why he kept such things, and now he seemed to find a reason.
“I am the King of Sweets ‘n Stuff,” Dale stated. “I brought all the yummy, tasty stuff that will make a Merry Christmas!” He took off the lid of his gift, and gently removed a beautiful gingerbread house. Dale’s mother had sent it, and he couldn’t bring himself to dismantle it to eat it, and wondered if he ever could. Now he found the perfect home for the magical confection.
“Can I have some now?” Kevin begged his mother.
“Just one piece,” his mom said.
Dale frowned and, with a face of comic sorrow, held up two fingers.
“Okay, two pieces.” Mrs. Davis said.
“But brush your teeth afterwards,” Dale said with a waggle of his finger.
Chip now stepped forward. “I am the King of Christmas Giving,” he said. “I bring the gift of Christmas Tradition that will make a Merry Christmas.”
Kevin squealed in delight when he opened the present. The teddy bear held a lot of sentiment for Chip. But rather than let him sit on a closet shelf, Chip had decided that he was better off in a child’s arms.
Kevin’s face suddenly grew serious. “But will Santa still come? How will he find us?”
“The same way we did,” Chip said, kneeling next to him. “You see, whenever a child can’t be home on Christmas Eve, a Christmas Star appears. And Santa guides his sleigh by the Christmas Stars, so no one’s ever missed.”
“She’s right, mate,” Monty said. “That’s how it is all over the world."
“Look, Kevin,” Dale said, pointing out the window. “there’s your Christmas Star now!”
And so it was. A single, brilliant white star, motionless in the sky. All the Davis’ looked on in a moment of shared wonder.
“But Santa won’t come until all good little boys and girls are fast asleep,” said Chip. “So off to bed with you.”
Kevin instantly went floppity against his father, snoring like a lumberjack. His father picked him up and made to carry him to bed. He paused at the foot of the stairs.
“Thank you all, mighty Kings,” he said. “And Merry Christmas.”
And as he carried Kevin up the stairs, the little scamp opened his eyes and stage-whispered “Merry Christmas, your Kinglynesses.”
The three Kings made their way to the door, and Mrs. Davis bestowed on each of them a kiss. “Thank you all. Chip, Dale, Monterey. All the joys of Christmas be yours.”
“Coo, they already are, Mrs. Davis,” said Monty. “And Merry Christmas to all of you.”
They started for home with a chorus (remarkably, in harmony) of “We Three Kings.” Mr. Davis joined his wife at the door and they marveled again at the bright, solitary star in the sky.
“How did they manage that?” Mrs. Davis wondered.
“Just a little Christmas miracle, I guess,” her husband replied. They closed the door and turned out the light.
But if they had been a bit more observant, they would have found the miracle. Hovering above a krypton flashlight bulb attatched by fifty feet of wire was the RangerPlane, with Gadget holding it steady as a rock in the frosty, gentle breeze.
Zipper, wrapped in a toasty scarf and cap, flew up to her and buzzed happily.
“Thanks, Zipper,” Gadget said. “I saw them leave. Did everything go okay?”
He answered with another positivly joyous buzz.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” she said. “I’m so glad we could cheer him up.”
Zipper buzzed a question.
“No, I’m going to stay up here for a while. I want Kevin to see his Star if he looks outside. You go on in.”
He hummed an acknowledgement and flew for home.
“Someday,” Gadget said to herself. “I’ve got to put a top on this thing,” She snuggled deeper into her parka hood against the icy air. “And cabin heat. Definitely cabin heat.”
And so she stayed. Past nine o’clock, rubbing the frost of her own breath off the instruments with her mittens. And past ten o’clock, when below all seemed dark and still. Not until eleven o’clock had passed did she feel it safe to give up her vigil.
“‘Now all good children are snug in their beds,’” she recited. “‘With visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads.’ One year, I’m going to have to try some sugar plums. The poets think so highly of them.”
Gadget shut off the lamp and winched it in, then let the RangerPlane glide the short distance to the landing pad. She powered down the plane and walked quickly to the door. Inside she found her fellow Rangers still awake in their sleepwear, awaiting her return.
“Gadget!” Chip said. “We were afraid you were going to miss Christmas.”
“Chip,” said Gadget. “I think I just had the best Christmas Eve of my entire life!”
“You should have seen him, Gadget,” Dale said excitedly. “He was so happy he’d make Scrooge McDuck believe in Christmas!”
“We should all hit the hay,” Monty said. “Remember, Santa won’t come ‘till we’re all asleep in our beds.”
“You go ahead,” Gadget said. “I’m going to warm up a bit before I turn in.”
She hugged and kissed each of them in turn.
“Merry Christmas, Chip. Merry Christmas, Dale. Merry Christmas, Zipper. And a very Merry Christmas to you, Monty.”
Four starry-eyed and sleepy Santa’s helpers made their way to bed, and Gadget headed for the kitchen for a cup of hot cocoa. She brought it to the couch and threw a blanket over her lap and felt warm, secure and just a bit satisfied at her night’s work.
Gadget really had intended to go to bed. But for this night, the Sandman saves a little vial of the Sands of Time, and Gadget’s cocoa was only half gone when the most serene of sleeps, that of Christmas Eve, gently closed her eyes.
The Spirit of Christmas comes in all sizes, and all species. So if Gadget had been awake, she might have thought the red-and-white clothed mouse was Monterey Jack. Except that the white hair and long beard were very, very, real.
He placed the presents under the tree, and carefully added to the gifts in every stocking. Then, since he had just come from a certain star-marked house, he paused where Gadget was sleeping.
“I understand,” he said in a deep, friendly voice. “That you have been a very, very, good girl tonight. So Santa brought a very special present for you.”
“Dream,” said Santa, gently brushing a gloved hand through her hair. “Dream of merry Christmas’ gone by. Dream of joyous Christmas’ yet to be.”
And so he departed, and Gadget dreamed. She dreamed of Christmas with her father and his friends, in many countries and many customs, and yet all familiar.
She dreamed of one Christmas Eve, alone and afraid, walled up behind her own boobytraps, and thinking that happiness would never again be hers.
And she dreamed of the next Christmas morning, with presents under her drooping little tree. Presents that could not have come there by any mortal hand. And she remembered the happiness and hope reborn on that morning.
And she dreamed of many more Christmas’, filled with laughter, and warmth, and childrens’ tiny hands held out in eager anticipation. And a pair of eyes and a smile that were meant only for her.
But her sweetest dream of that wonderous night was of a little squirrel just across the park, whose faith in the spirit of Christmas was kindled anew by three improbable Kings and a living Star in the sky.
And when Gadget awoke on that bright and crisp Christmas morning, she remembered all of this, and one thing more. That the true Spirit of Christmas is in the giving of yourself.
For it was the giving of one’s self that lit that first Star of Christmas above Bethlehem. And sent Kings in search of the one whose birth it marked.
And it is that Spirit that still lights every light of Christmas.
To all of you. The Rangerphiles, The Gadgetphiles; The Disneyainians, The Toonsters, The Anthro-fans and Fur-fen.
A Very Merry Christmas
From Dave White and
Monika Livingstone
DISCLAIMER: The Rescue Rangers, Gadget, Chip, Dale, Monterey Jack, Zipper,
are © Walt Disney Pictures, and are employed here without permission.
All other characters, locations, and situations are © David D. White. Permission
to copy and re-distribute without charge is granted, provided the work is not
altered, edited, or otherwise fiddled with.