Part 1: An Exceptionally Cold
Winter Threatens Christmas
Indeed, his table manners were as good as the rest of his behavior. How often Mama Black Bear had boasted that her son Cubby was as polite as a penguin in formal clothes: He always said Yes Sir and Yes Ma'am, to his elders. He tried not to burp in public. And he never chewed bubblegum in church.
Still, despite Cubby's good behavior there was some question as to whether Christmas would come to his home in Bear Hollow this year. An unseasonably cold blizzard had covered the already frigid north end of Earth in a freezing glacial avalanche, forcing Santa Bear's helpers into early hibernation before they could finish the task of making Christmas toys.
Rumor had it that even Santa Bear, who was himself supposed to be unaffected by cold weather, had been snoring uncontrollably in his snowbound workshop since early June, leaving the bulk of Christmas preparation undone.
Only Hootdini, the great snowy owl of Christmas Bear Town, remained watchful in the frozen land. Each day, the magnificent bird would spread his wings to hover like a cloud above all the woody, rocky places in the world where bear children made their homes. With his thirty-eight foot wingspan, it was easy for him to glide from place to place, casting his keen eyes earthward to focus on the behavior of forest youngsters like Cubby of Bear Hollow. This was just one of his many jobs. Some bears said, Hootdini even helped Santa Bear deliver gifts.
But even if Hootdini swooped down this very day to see how carefully Cubby cleaned his room, brushed his teeth, and did all the things expected of a bear his age, Christmas would pass Bear Hollow by if Santa Bear and his helpers remained asleep.
Cubby had bitten his lower lip when Mama Black Bear repeated what had been honked about by migrating Canada Geese. Though he had not yet seen his first Christmas tree, Cubby understood well that when a bear begins to yawn, the nap that always follows is not a matter of choice. The Black Bear family members themselves relied upon the husky voice of North Wind to wake them up at Christmas time.
"So we won't sleep right through until Spring," Mama Black Bear had told him.
"Do you think North Wind will be able to whisper Santa Bear awake?" Cubby asked.
"Probably not," Mama shook her head. "Even magical Hootdini with his noisy hoots hasn't broken this year's frozen silence at Christmas Bear Town." She patted her young son's head and thought about how much Cubby resembled his father with his shiny, black coat and glistening leggings. Only the spot of rust under his chin resembled her own cinnamon furs that had lost much of their sheen in the months since Papa Black Bear had lost his life to the phantom Wolverine.
Mama Black Bear sighed now at the prospects of having no Christmas this year for her fatherless child. Tenderly, she gathered Cubby to her lap and sang a gentle lulla-bear-by. When he finally nodded off, she covered him with an extra blanket and kissed him goodbye. The young mother felt a desperate urgency, and catching a long winter’s sleep herself was the last thing on her mind. On this night she would visit the dangerous Land of Wolverine.
Part 2: Mama Black Bear
Takes A Risk
The moment she stepped out of Bear Hollow, Mama Black Bear had felt her blood run cold. Now, she peered around the corner of Wolverine's candy cottage and saw a heap of brightly wrapped packages stacked alongside the woodpile kindling. She knew Wolverine was bent on destroying Christmas. It was he who had cast the snowy spell on Christmas Bear Town and stolen the few already completed presents from Santa Bear and his elves while they slept. And it was on his mission to save Christmas that Papa Bear had met his untimely end.
From where she stood there was no way to guess what each colorful parcel held. Still she hoped she could retrieve just one appropriate gift for Cubby---perhaps a little wooden truck or a rat-a-tat drum.
But, before you could say Masked Bandit, a greasy-looking creature appeared, clawing his way through his Laffy Taffy door--the horrid phantom Wolverine. And, yes, he was wearing his ugly black mask. The dreadful beast glanced left, then right, before selecting a tissue-wrapped box from the stack of Christmas presents. This he hoisted, with much grunting and groaning, to the top of his ugly head, where he carried it, snarling all the way to the fireplace inside his house.
Peeking through the window, Mama Black Bear watched with dismay as the corners of Wolverine's mouth curled into a crooked leer. From the way he cackled, as he tossed the gift into the fire, it was clear that Wolverine intended to burn all the stolen parcels one at a time.
Mama Black Bear held her breath. It was now or never. While Wolverine absorbed himself in feeding his fire, she reached into the pile of presents, shaking this one, sniffing that one, and feeling them all in hopes that one might contain something Cubby Bear might like.
From its shape and size, one large package looked like it might contain a rocking horse. Not daring to risk the weight of such an unwieldy package, unless it did, for sure, hold such a treasure, Mama Black Bear peeled back a corner of the crimson Christmas wrap.
What was actually inside, she would never know. Just when it looked like Mama Black Bear might be able to carry off her dangerous plan, Wolverine's sensitive ears pricked up. He had heard the sound of ripping paper.
With a snarl, he flattened those same sensitive ears back against his vile head and lunged through the door. To the terrified bear, it all seemed very much like one of those bad dreams--a nightmare when you need to scream and run, but you can't. Indeed, Mama Black Bear couldn't move, for Wolverine had cast a spell, imprisoning her in a large gold-trimmed box which he gleefully added, though with some difficulty, to the very top of his woodpile. She was trapped. There was no way she could get out.
Part 3: Cubby Bear Tries to
Find His Mama
Christmas, Christmas! His heart skipped a beat. Outside he could hear North Wind whispering. Perhaps Christmas had come after all. But where was his mother? He had expected her to be there with her tender bear hugs and a soothing voice. For a long time he cried out for her. No answer. All alone, he stood there in his little bearskin pajamas, trembling as much with fear as with the cold. Still, his mother didn't come.
Finally, hoarse from calling, the little bear sank in exhaustion to the sandy floor of his bedroom. Outside North Wind continued to whisper Christmas, Christmas! But this time the wind's voice was accompanied by the distant hooting of an owl. Hootdini!
As the sounds grew louder, Cubby struggled to his feet with the idea of searching for his mother. Once outside, he glanced about to get his bearings. There was the road to Fishing River, where Papa Bear had caught a giant salmon in happier times. And here was the huge pine tree with its rough bark. How often he and his parents had rubbed their backs against that gnarled trunk! A tuft of Mama Bear's cinnamon hair still clung to the weeping resin. Cubby's eyes once again filled with tears.
Bunny saw the bear child and came close enough to hear his muffled sobs. The sympathetic little snowshoe would have reached out to hug Cubby had not his mother snatched him back and pulled him into their hole-in-the-ground cottage.
Then Blue Jay saw Cubby. With cruel taunting, the raucous bird pursued the little bear. When no mama bear rushed out to defend her cub, Blue Jay screeched even louder. Orphan, orphan. You must be an orphan!
How sorely those words cut into Cubby's heart! Tearfully, he turned tail and stumbled back towards Bear Hollow. As he tumbled into the safety of his doorway, he had the distinct impression that Hootdini's hoots were growing closer. But he was too tired to raise his head. So it was that Cubby failed to see that great, white snowy owl swoop down from the North and pass directly overhead.
But Hootdini saw Cubby. For a moment, that enormous owl thought wistfully of Santa Bear. How he wished he could wake that jolly bringer of gifts to see this poor bear child facing his first Christmas without the prospects of finding either presents or, more importantly, his mother.
Then, as Cubby cried himself to sleep, Hootdini made a decision. Ever so bravely, he veered towards the fearful Land of Wolverine.
Cubby would never know how valiantly Hootdini fought against the phantom Wolverine. Nor could he ever imagine the spectacle of Hootdini flying back to Bear Hollow with a huge, unwieldy gold-trimmed box grasped tightly in his giant talons.
But in the morning, when the little bear opened the gift that would mysteriously appear beside his bed, he'd know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Christmas had finally come to Bear Hollow.
