Hail to the Dinosaurs!
The Dinosaur Christmas Story is a holiday tradition here at Dinosaur Training Headquarters. This is part one of the Christmas Story. Be looking for parts 2 and 3 tomorrow and the next day.
On Christmas Eve we'll share another Dinosaur Christmas tradition -- the ever-popular Dinosaur version of The Night Before Christmas.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all Dinos everywhere! I hope you make 2016 the best year ever for strength and health.
Brooks Kubik
THE STRONGMAN’S CHRISTMAS
Part One
“BRRRR! It’s cold.”
The broad-shouldered man slapped his gloved hands together as he stepped out of the theatre and into the cold.
A sharp gust of wind hit him full force, almost pushing him backward despite his size and weight.
He
lowered his head and shoulders and pushed his way forward, fighting
against the cold and the wind. His hotel was seven and a half
city-blocks from the theater. Even under his heavy German coat, he’d be
half-frozen by the time he got there.
At least there would be a hot meal waiting for him when he reached the hotel.
He
had gone about three blocks when another gust of wind tore his hat from
his head and sent it sailing across the street and down the sidewalk.
It
was an expensive hat. He didn’t relish the thought of losing it. Nor
did he relish the thought of completing his trek with a bare head. Not
on a day like this, when the wind blew out of the north with the full force and fury of an arctic gale.
And besides, he kept something very special inside the hat. His good luck charm. It wouldn’t do to lose a good luck charm.
He darted across the street, moving with amazing speed for a big man. But his hat was nowhere to be found.
He stopped, stood and looked down the sidewalk.
Where could it be?
He walked up and down the sidewalk, peering into every nook and cranny where the offending bowler might have hidden itself.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
He growled in frustration, muttering faint words in German.
“Dumbkopf!” he said. “You should have kept your hand on your head.”
He came to the entrance to a dark alley. Perhaps the hat was there.
He stepped into the alley, choosing his steps carefully to avoid the mud, the dirt, the filth and the garbage.
Ten
steps into the alley, he stopped and shook his head in resignation. If
the hat was here, it was as good as gone anyway. It would be ruined in
any case.
He turned and retraced his steps.
Once
he was back on the sidewalk, he took one last look up and down the
sidewalk, then sighed, shook his head a final time, and turned toward
his hotel.
He had taken perhaps a dozen steps when he felt a small hand tugging at the sleeve of his coat.
“Here, Mister,” said a young boy. “Here’s your hat.”
The boy held the hat in his pale, white hand, gloveless against the cold, and doubtless half-frozen.
The man reached down, took the hat in hand, turned it over, and peered inside.
His good luck charm was gone!
The small boy held up his other hand.
“This fell out of it, Mister,” he said.
He held up a small gold medal on a blue ribbon.
The
man took the medal, and held it in his hand, feeling its weight, and
reading its words. He already knew them, of course. He had read the
inscription so many times since the day the King had pinned the medal on his massive chest.
“Thank you,” he said.
He reached in his pocket, and pulled out a handful of change.
The boy shook his head.
“No, Mister,” he said. “You don’t need to do that. I was just -- just being being a good Christian.”
He looked small and tired and hungry -- and very cold. His teeth chattered as he spoke.
The man looked at the boy silently.
“But you did me a kindness,” he said. “I should repay you.”
Once again, the boy shook his head.
“No, Sir,” he said. “It wouldn’t be right to take money for doing a kindness.”
“You must let me do something! This hat is very expensive – and this medal is – is very special to me.”
“Do you like chestnuts?’ asked the boy.
The man nodded.
“I sell hot chestnuts,” said the boy.
It was a way to repay a kindness.
“I’d like to buy some,” said the man.
“It’s right over there,” said the boy. “Where I sell them, I mean. That’s where your hat blew. That’s how I found it.”
“Thank you for being there,” said the man. "You must be my guardian angel."
Despite the cold, the boy smiled.
"Naw, I'm just -- just the kid who sells hot chestnuts," he said. "But I'm glad I grabbed your hat before it blew all the way to China."
TO BE CONTINUED.
