Christmas and the Great Golden Bear

Dedicated to Julia Rose and Alice Bea Guerin

By Christopher D. Guerin

Christmas was coming and the Great Golden Bear was worried.
It had been a good year in the forest.  There had been no fires in the dry season, very few hunters in the Fall, and the flowers in the Spring had been the most glorious in memory.
All the animals in the forest, large and small, looked to the Great Golden Bear for their safety, and they seemed to be happy with how he managed things.  In fact, everyone loved the Great Golden Bear, though they seldom told him so.  He was rather gruff at times.  Standing on his two hind legs, taller even than a moose,  his golden fur gleaming in the sunshine, he could be terrifying in his majesty.  Nonetheless, the Great Golden Bear was loved and respected by all – or almost all, as we shall see.
So why was the Great Golden Bear worried?  Someone was stealing the Christmas food from his secret trees.
For many years, without anyone else in the forest knowing, the Great Golden Bear, with the help of his wife and children, cousins, aunt and uncles, had been storing food in the trucks of hollow trees.  From these stores, each Christmas the forest creatures enjoyed a wonderful feast.  It had always seemed most curious to the animals how from nowhere there appeared such generous supplies of the most wonderful grasses and nuts, dried berries and fruit.  They did not know that the Great Golden Bear was so proud of all the animals in the forest, at how they worked so hard to store away, each his own, and each for every other, all the food that was necessary to get them through the most difficult winter.  They did not know that as his gift to them, he wanted to reward his friends at Christmastime with a feast and celebration that they would not have to work to produce.  It was called the “Holiday Hoard,” this magnificent meal, and every beast and fowl in the forest looked forward to it with the greatest excitement.
A few days before, while inspecting each secret tree, the Great Golden Bear had discovered one of the trees completely empty.  Someone had dug away the dirt beneath the roots and found the secret entrance.  Everything had been stolen.
Now there were many secret trees.  The Great Golden Bear had seen to that.  They were scattered all over the forest and there was no way, he thought, that anyone could find more than one.  But the loss of the food in even one tree meant that more than a whole month’s work had gone for nothing.  As worrisome as this seemed to the Great Golden Bear, he took comfort in the fact that even if every secret tree was found out and robbed, there was always what he called his “Pantry.”  Even the members of his family did not know about the Pantry.  In a small cave that the Great Golden Bear had discovered while still a cub, closed with a huge rock that only he was strong enough to move, was stored enough food to provide the most wonderful feast.  Everything in it had been gathered by the Great Golden Bear himself.  There were the choicest foods, and there they would remain, only to be used for the Holiday Hoard in the event of the worst calamity.
The day after the Bear found the first secret tree empty, he found another empty.  The next day, another.  And the next, another.  He became so worried that he decided to speak to his best friend and advisor.  Standing on the edge of the frozen river, he roared three times.  Then he took a large rock and threw it onto the ice, crashing through and making a big round hole.  He roared once more, and waited patiently.  Soon a large brown snout with whiskers appeared.
“Cyril!  My good friend.  How are you?” said the bear.
“Greetings!” replied Cyril the carp, “I am well, thank you.  It’s really quite cozy beneath the ice this winter.  How are things in the forest?”
“Not so well, Cyril,” complained the bear.  “That’s why I summoned you.  Someone has been stealing the Holiday Hoard from my secret trees.  Four of them have been quite emptied out!”
“Serious news indeed,” replied the carp.  “And you have no idea who the robber may be?”
“Robbersssss, I rather imagine,” the bear corrected him.  “No one could bear away all that food by themselves.”
“And you and your family have seen nothing.”
“Nothing.  It is all quite mysterious.”
“Mysterious is the word,” Cyril agreed.
“Can you advise me in this matter, Cyril?”  asked the Great Golden Bear.
“You honor me with your confidence,” replied Cyril.  “But it is very difficult, when I cannot visit the scene of the crime.”
“That is impossible, of course,” said the bear, rather apologetically.
“Yet I will try to help you, if you can answer a question or two.  Tell me first – are there no tracks in the snow you can follow?”
The bear chuckled.  “Our winter has been cold enough to freeze the river, but as you can see we’ve had no snow.  On the hard ground, the robbers have left no tracks whatsoever.”
“Of course, I should have known.  I can still watch the moon at night through the clear ice – quite a lovely sight.  Let me try again.  There are so many animals in the forest, and no one will hibernate until after the Christmas feast . . .”
“If there is one!” exclaimed the bear.
“Precisely,” agreed Cyril.  “So, has no one seen anything mysterious?”
“No a thing,” replied the bear.  “Of course, it is difficult for me to ask too many questions.  No one but my family and yourself knows about the secret trees.  But there have been no rumors, as usually happens when strange things occur in the forest.”
“It is a mystery indeed.  I have only this one suggestion.  A bear must be assigned to watch each remaining secret tree, beginning this very night.  Certainly, if the robbers come again, they may catch the thieves red-handed.”
“But that provides no guarantee that all the stolen food will be recovered.  The thieves might escape, or if they are caught, they might remain silent.  I am far more concerned to retrieve my Holiday Hoard than I care to punish anyone for stealing it.”
“In that case,” continued Cyril, “you should instruct them not to stop the robbers, but let them steal what they will, and then follow them wherever they go.  They will certainly lead you to the place where all the food has been stored.”
“That is an excellent plan,” cried the Great Golden Bear.  “I will do exactly as you say.”
“One thing more,” added Cyril.  “Whoever the robbers may be, they care very little for Christmas or its spirit.  What they have done is most selfish and ungenerous.  You must instruct the members of your family to be very cautious.  You may be placing them in great danger.”
“But we are bears,” came the laughing reply.  “Who could hurt us, even if they dared?”
“I warn you, that is all.  Those who would steal the Holiday Hoard can be trusted in nothing.”
“I hear you and will do all I can to forewarn my clan.  Cyril, as always, you have been most helpful.  Before I go, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Just break another hole in this ice on Christmas day so that I may join the great feast,” said the carp.  “Until then, good luck, and be careful.”
“Until then, my friend,” said the bear.
The carp vanished for a second, then shot into the air, flashing like golden lightning before he plunged back through the hole and disappeared.
*  *  *
Now as it happened, the Great Golden Bear didn’t follow Cyril’s advice after all.  He felt he didn’t have to because that afternoon there was a brief storm that covered everything with a thin layer of snow.  Now all I have to do, thought the bear, is check my secret trees in the morning, and if one has been emptied out, the tracks in the snow will lead me straight to the culprit’s hideaway.
Sure enough, the next morning, one of the largest trees had been broken into and all the food was gone.  But to the bear’s amazement, there was not a track to be found.  How could this be?  What could carry away all that food without leaving a trace?  Could it be birds? the bear wondered.  But even a bird would leave its claw prints at the base of the tree before it took flight, and besides, it would take a thousand birds to carry away that much food with their beaks, and someone would have seen a thousand birds by now.  The mystery had gotten a great deal more mysterious.
That night, he put Cyril’s plan into action.  The Great Golden Bear rounded up his family and appointed two bears to watch each of the last four secret trees.  And just in case, the Great Golden Bear himself spent the night watching the entrance to his secret Pantry.
The night passed uneventfully for the Great Golden Bear, but the next morning, he was dismayed to find that every single bear had nodded off to sleep during the night and that every single secret tree had been robbed of its goods as well.
The Great Golden Bear was furious, and not a little bit frightened.  He showed only his anger, however, roaring so grumpily that every bear ran yowling into the forest in shame.
What frightened the Great Golden Bear was the mystery of what had happened.  He didn’t know what to do.  Some very strange and powerful evil was at work and it was up to him to protect the forest from its power.
One thing was certain – he would have to solve the mystery himself.  When he thought about it, he couldn’t really blame his family.  He too had fallen asleep in the middle of the night.  He suspected some magic had been the cause.  He couldn’t be sure, but one thing was certain, he must keep a special watch on his Pantry tonight, for it was Christmas Eve and tomorrow was Christmas.
When the sun went down, the Great Golden Bear posted himself behind a blue spruce not ten feet from the great boulder that protected his Pantry.  Just to make sure he wouldn’t fall asleep, the bear gave himself a good hard pinch in the tummy every minute or so.  And stay awake he did . . . or at least he thought he did.  In the middle of the night, he eyelids dropped and blinked a time or two, and as if in a dream, he thought he saw the great boulder roll over, opening the door to his Pantry.  When he blinked again, it was because the first shaft of sunlight from the dawn had pierced his eye.  The Great Golden Bear shook his head.  It had not been a dream at all.  The boulder no longer blocked the entrance to the Pantry.  With a growl, he ran into the cave and found it quite empty.  As empty as a hungry stomach.
Now all the Holiday Hoard was gone and he, the Great Golden Bear, had failed to provide for the creatures of the forest.   He felt nothing but shame.
“I am not fit to be called the Great Golden Bear,” he cried.
“Yes, you are,” came a tiny voice from within the cave.
“Who’s there?” the bear growled menacingly.
“No need to try and scare me,” someone said.  “I know where your Holiday Hoard has gone.”
“Show yourself,” demanded the bear.
“I’m standing right in front of you.”
Slowly the bear’s eyes focused in the darkness, but he saw nothing but the bare stone floor.
“Look a little closer,” said the voice.  “I know I’m small, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less here than you.  Bend down a bit.  I’m front of your big right toe.”
So the Great Golden Bear bent down and was astonished to find a white spider, her delicate legs dangling.
“Hello, Bear,” said the spider.  “If I may curtsey to your majesty.  My name is Dollop.”
The spider bent her legs and lowered her head.
“Hello,” the bear greeted her, then grew suspicious:  “Now, how did you get into my Pantry?”
“Your ‘Pantry’, as you call it, is my home.  In fact, I’ve lived here for years, many years before you found this place and began to fill it up with food.”
“So what do you have to say about my food?  Have you taken it?”
I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a spider laugh.  It’s really a very pretty sound, a bit like a flower petal opening.  The bear liked the sound, in spite of himself.
“Bear,” the spider began, “let’s forget for the moment the question of who has the right to occupy this cave.  I, for one, have allowed you to enter my home as often as you like without complaint.  I reveal myself to you only to be of service.  Do you want my help or not?”
The bear could see the politeness in this answer and felt ashamed.  “I’m sorry, Dollop,” he said, “if I have intruded, I beg your apology.  My only concern is for the Holiday Hoard. Surely you must have heard of it.”
“I have,” said the spider, “though I’ve never been invited to the great Christmas Feast.”
“Considering where you live,” said the bear, “you could have eaten your fill.”
“That’s true, but I am an honest spider, and though at times the temptation has been great, not once have I nibbled at your stores to satisfy my hunger.”
“Then let me assure you, Dollop,” said the bear, “if you can help me to find those who have stolen the Holiday Hoard, forever after, you and all your kind will have an honored place at the Christmas Feast.”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” replied the spider, with another curtsey.  “Now, listen carefully.  Can I assume that you are puzzled about what has happened?”
“Indeed, I am,” cried the bear.
“What puzzles you most?”
“Someone steals our food and leaves no tracks in the snow,” said the bear.
“No tracks?  But they’re as plain as day!”
“I see nothing,” said the bear.
“Here’s the problem.  You are so tall, your eyes could not see me until you bent down.  Look as closely for the tracks as you did for me, and you will see much.”
The Great Golden Bear stepped outside of the cave and bent down low.  Sure enough, he could see tiny lines in the snow.
“What could have caused these tiny tracks and yet have carried away all my stores,” asked the befuddled bear.
“Ants,” said the spider simply.
“Ants!” cried the bear.  “That’s impossible!”
“Nonetheless,” said  Dollop, “these are their tracks.”
“Will you  help me to follow them?” asked the bear.
“I would be delighted to be of use,” said Dollop.
The Great Golden Bear stretched out his forepaw and the spider leaped on and together the bear and the ant followed the tiny, delicate tracks of the ants deeper and deeper into the forest.
Soon they came to a thick clump of pine trees standing shoulder to shoulder.
“They’re in there,” said Dollop.
“But there’s no way in,” complained the bear.
“You’ll just have to bend down low and force your way between the branches,” Dollop advised him.
The bear did as she said and they soon found themselves in a clearing inside a ring of trees.  In the very center of the clearing stood a tall mound of dirt, twice as tall as the Great Golden Bear.
“What’s this?” asked the bear.
“An anthill,” replied Dollop.
“You think my stores are in there?”
“I do.”
“But how do I get in?  There are only tiny holes the ants have made.”
Dollop soon figured it out.  On one side of the hill was a slightly larger hole.
“There!” she cried, “they haven’t had time to close it up completely.  If you start digging, you’ll find the way in.”
Sure enough, with the first touch of the bear’s claw, the hole grew bigger.  He clawed away furiously and the rest of the earth fell away, leaving a large hole that went down into the earth.
“Down we go!” said Dollop.
“Down there?” said the bear, doubtfully.
“Didn’t the ant tracks lead us here?”
“They did,” admitted the bear.
“Then down we go.  Don’t be afraid.  It looks like a well-made hole and my spider’s sense will warn us if the earth is likely to collapse.”
Ready to trust his new friend, the Great Golden Bear took a deep breath and plunged into the hole.  Down, down they went through the dark earth.  Big roots stuck out of the walls, and scratched at the bear’s face and eyes, but on they went.
“There’s a light!” cried Dollop.
In a moment, they found themselves in an immense cavern with gleaming stripes of gold and silver on the walls.
“Look there!” Dollop cried.
In a great pile in the middle of the cavern stood every morsel of the Holiday Hoard, and marshaling its forces in front of the pile was a million ants.
“My food!” bellowed the bear, bounding forward.
“Halt!” shouted every ant with a single voice.
“Out of my way, you robbers!” shouted the bear, but before he could reach the pile the ants had formed themselves into a thick wall.  The only way forward would have been for the bear to crash through the wall of ants and his big bearish heart softened with the knowledge that many ants would be killed if he did.
“What do we do now?” the bear asked the spider.
“I think talking is always good,” advised the spider.  “Who knows, they might have a better reason for stealing your food than you had for storing it.”
“That’s an odd idea,” said the bear.  “When is there ever a good reason for stealing?”
“I don’t know,” replied Dollop, “but I always say, if you look closely, you might learn a thing or two.  Perhaps they mean no evil.  Why don’t you ask them why?”
“All right, I will,” declared the bear.  “You, ants!  Tell me why you have stolen my Holiday Hoard!”
Again with a single voice, the ants said, “For a good many reason, oh Great Golden Bear.  First, because you have stolen it for us to steal.”
“What nonsense,” said the bear.  “I have stolen nothing.  This food is for all the animals of the forest.”
“All the animals?” said the ants.  “Are we not animals of the forest?”
“Well . . . um . . .well, you’re ants,” muttered the bear.  “This food is for animals.”
“Do we not breath and eat and dream and hunger?” said the ants.
The bear did not know what to say.
“But there is another reason,” said the ants.
Then there was silence.
“Well, I’m listening,” said the bear gruffly.
When the ants did not answer, Dollop said, “I think it would be better if I talked to them.  I see their King.  He wants to say something, but I’m afraid you scare him too much.”
“Oh, well,” sighed the bear, “if you must.”
Dollop jumped off the bear’s paw and crawled into the midst of the ants.  A minute later she returned.
“It seems,” said Dollop, “that the Ant King was only trying to be like you.  He wanted all the food for his people.”
“All the food!  Why, that’s selfish,” growled the bear.  “All the food for a bunch of ants?  Has he no sense of right and wrong?”
Dollop lowered her head shyly and answered, “Selfish is exactly what they think you are.  For years, you have stored away this food, without even a thought for them.  Not once have you ever invited the to the Christmas Feast.”
“But why should I worry about little . . .” The Great Golden Bear stopped talking and bowed his head.  “Can you bring their king to me?” he asked sheepishly.
Dollop leaped into the throng of ants again and soon came back followed by a great black ant with a speck of gold on his head.
“King Ant, at your service,” shouted the ant, though the bear could hardly hear him.
“Friend, you make me ashamed,” began the Great Golden Bear.  “I see now that for a long time I have been a poor protector, ignoring so great a part of the forest.”  He pointed to Dollop.  “This wise spider here – she has been of great service to me, but never before have I considered the spiders when it was time for the Christmas Feast.  Likewise, you, the ants, and all the other tiny creatures of the forest that I have never even bothered to look upon, you are all deserving.  This was selfishness indeed.  Please, will you accept my apologies?  And from now, will all your people take an honored place at the Christmas Feast?”
“We will be delighted!” said the Ant King.
“Yes, we will!” shouted the million ants.
“There is something I still don’t understand,” said the bear.  “How could all of this food have been carried down here?”  You are all so tiny!”
“We’ll show you!” came the joyous reply.  “Stand back!”
The Great Golden Bear did as they asked and stood beside the cavern wall.  Then he and Dollop watched with amazement as each and every bit of food, even the largest dried fruits, pine cones, and nuts seemed suddenly to float across the floor right up the tunnel leading back to the forest floor.
“I’ll tell you this, little Dollop,” said the Great Golden Bear, “Never again will I forget that we are all, every one of us, creatures of the forest.”
And so the Holiday Hoard was returned, to shouts and cheers so loud they could be heard in the cities of men, far, far away.  It was Christmas Day and under a brilliant sun, the great and the small, the furry and the feathered, the largest elk and the tiniest flea, all gathered to celebrate Christmas with the most magnificent feast of all.  By the banks of the river, they gathered and every animal treated every other animal with the greatest generosity and respect.  The spider sat down with the sparrow, the ant with the antelope, the weasel with the weevil, and the moose with the mouse.
The Great Golden Bear did not forget to make another hole in the ice, and Cyril the Carp, after hearing the story of the ants, leaped with joy, a dozen times or more, flashing his golden lightning in the sunshine.



12-23-94