You know Dasher, you know Dancer, you know all those other guys, And you know about the reindeer with the sparkle-nosed surprise.
But there is another reindeer that I’m sure you don’t recall.
He’s a little guy named Bernie, the least famous of them all.
Now this Bernie was too scrawny and too small to pull a sleigh,
(To be honest, flying made him kind of gassy anyway).
All the other reindeer laughed at him or pointed at his bottom,
But in time they got so busy that they sort of just forgot ’im.
Every Christmas all the reindeer would go soaring through the sky
Pulling sleighs and bags of presents and one jolly little guy,
But poor Bernie stayed behind and played Parcheesi with the elves,
’Til they sighed their pint-sized sighs and felt all sorry for themselves.
Year by year poor Bernie sat there as he sighed and drooped and waited,
Growing ever more dejected (and a little irritated).
No one noticed him, or thought of him, or gave him half a mention,
So when Bernie ran away from home, nobody paid attention.
Bernie trekked through forests cold and dark, and mountains high and hilly,
’Til he found a small apartment on the other side of Philly.
Then he searched until he found a job that he could do alone—
He would stay in his apartment and sell products on the phone!
So for months and months the reindeer called the names on his computer.
Several people let him say his speech, but other folks were ruder.
“This is Bernie,” he would say, “and how are you this evening, sir?”
But the answers they would give sent frosty shivers through his fur!
They would call him nasty names and never use their inside voice,
But poor Bernie needed money, so he didn’t have a choice.
As the winter came, he started to regret the path he’d chosen—
Back at Santa’s it was often cold, but here his life was frozen!
Then one day, December twenty-fourth, when all his spark had died,
And poor Bernie sat and watched the blizzard piling up outside,
Something magical occurred that made his sleigh-bells ting-a-ling!
Just when all his hope had left him, Bernie’s phone began to ring!
“Bernie, is it you?” the voice cried out when Bernie took the call,
“Oh thank heavens! This is Santa, and we’re trapped behind the squall!
Every road is blocked by snow, and more keeps falling from the sky.
We’ve run out of reindeer food, and so the team’s too weak to fly!”
“If I’d only bought the larger bag, we wouldn’t have this mess,
But my coupon was expired—oh it’s my fault, I confess!
Now I’ve ruined things for everyone. No Christmas time this year!”
Bernie listened to his tale of woe, then answered, “Have no fear!”
“Just sit tight, old friend,” said Bernie, and he felt all warm inside
As a strength surged up within him—partly hope and partly pride.
Then he lit up his computer and he gave his mouse a jerk,
Filled his mug with fresh hot coffee, then he buckled down to work.
First he looked up every snowplow in the northern hemisphere,
Then he hooked up all the phone skills he’d built up throughout the year.
In an hour he had booked them all and sent them driving north,
Off to plow the workshop out so all the presents could go forth.
Then the second phase began as Bernie tried to find a way
To get all the presents to their kids in time for Christmas Day.
With another pot of coffee, several thousand calls he placed,
(Making sure to block his number so his name could not be traced).
With a voice so calm and pleasant that they couldn’t raise a fuss,
He called package shippers, moving trucks, four airlines, and a bus,
Then a dozen helicopters, and an airport limousine,
Several cruise ships, and more taxi cabs than you have ever seen.
Bernie stayed awake all night just finding numbers, making calls,
And he never ate his cookies, and he never decked his halls.
He just kept the coffee coming as his hoof grew extra quivery,
But nothing stopped our deer from booking every last delivery.
When Christmas came and all the kiddies woke up in their beds,
All the sugar-plums they’d dreamed of were piled up around their heads!
Every action figure, every doll, each candy cane and toffee,
Thanks to Bernie’s tele-miracle (and buckets full of coffee).
Then the other reindeer loved him, and old Santa did as well,
And they brought him home in time to have a jolly old Noel.
“That’s our Bernie!” how they shouted! “That’s our boy,” he heard them sing!
Then old Santa brought him straight down to the North Pole Corporate Wing.
Bernie got the corner office just beside the Arctic Ocean,
Then he got a snazzy title and a sizeable promotion.
As “VP in Charge of Telephones and Mass-Communication”
He gets money for retirement and six weeks of vacation!
And he never has to fly at all or lug around a sleigh—
He just makes some simple calls and sends the presents on their way!
Life is sweet at last for Bernie, for he’s found a way to mesh.
He can do the thing he’s best at, and the coffee’s always fresh!