The snowflakes that had fallen earlier in the evening coated the stately firs bordering the river.
Now the flakes had stopped coming down and the sky overhead was filled with stars.

It was unusual for snow to fall this time of year along the Oregon coast, especially so early in
the season. But that wasn’t the only unusual thing that happened this night. The few residents
of the Tillamook area who were still up and about might have thought it was a meteorite when
they saw it flash by overhead. The brilliant light had come down out of the north. It reflected off
the broad surface of the bay, then a heartbeat later dropped lower and out of sight farther
inland.

There was no one on the river as the glistening sleigh with its eight prancing reindeer dropped
from the sky. The white-bearded man’s laughter echoed in the stillness as he bounded out to
the snow covered ground. “Nice job, Rudolph!” he said, pausing to pat the leading red-nosed
animal on the flank. “You set her down just right. I think this is the spot that gal that who writes
about coastal fishing on the Internet was talking about. Let’s find out.”

Moving with remarkable agility for a man his age and bulk, the red-clad old timer bounced to the
back of his sled. “I’ve been just itchin’ to try this new G. Loomis steelhead rod ever since Mrs.
Claus gave it to me,” he said. “I didn’t get it until I got back to the North Pole last year. I’ve
been so darn busy ever since getting ready for this Christmas
I’ve not even had a chance to try it.”

Within seconds the man had the two sections of his rod together and his reel in place. Deftly,
his nimble fingers pulled line from the reel and threaded it through the rod guides. Then he
removed a small tackle box from storage space
underneath the huge pile of bags the sleigh carried.

“Let’s see now,” he said, “Jennie wrote something about these Wilson River steelhead taking a
red and chartreuse Spin-n-Glo. Let’s see if she knows what she’s talking about. As much
fishing as she does, and as enthusiastic as she is in writing about it,
it sure seems like she would.”

The bells on the harness of the reindeer jingled as the team pranced in anticipation. They
watched as their master hurried to the river bank. “Watch this, gang!”
he shouted back over his shoulder.

The big man’s cast arched out across and upstream. The lure sparkled softly in the moonlight
before dropping into the water near the far shore. He let the line peel from his reel until he felt
his sinker touch bottom, then he slowed the revolving spool with pressure of his thumb. The tip
of his rod throbbed and bobbed as he fed line so his sinker and lure worked its way downstream
along the river bottom.

Halfway through the drift, the man felt a different sensation. It was a feeling difficult to
describe. There was a sense of nothingness, yet an almost sureness that out there in the dark
current something had picked up his lure. He hesitated a heartbeat, then snapped his rod tip up
and back. “There he is!” he thundered, his booming voice shattering the stillness of the cold
December night. “Fish on!”

The excited reindeer pulled the giant sled a few feet closer to the river’s edge so they could
better watch. It was over in less than 15 minutes. Huffing and puffing and laughing at the same
time, the white-bearded man slid the glistening steelhead into the shallows. He reached down
and carefully unpinned the lure from its jaw. Then, with one toe of his shiny black boot, he
gently nudged the fish back into the current. With a single sweep of its broad tail it disappeared
into the green-tinged water.

“By golly I’ll have to bring that gal Jennie something special next year,” he exclaimed. Then he
broke down his rod and carefully slid it back into its holder. “I wish I had more time, but we’ve
got lots of work to do this night. You boys ready to go?"

Then the big man paused before climbing back into his sleigh. Glancing up at the starlit sky, he reached up to remove his red
cap and knelt in the snow next to his sled with bowed head. “Thank you, Lord,” he said softly. “Thank you for the countless
blessings this time of year always brings. Thank you for the love that is so much a part of it. Most of all, Lord, help each of us
to remember why we have this precious night in the first place. Please bless me and my team as we finish our job this
Christmas Eve. May you also bless each home we get to visit. And Oh, I almost forgot, thanks for sure for letting me catch
that beautiful fish. Amen.”

Then, as swiftly and as quietly as it came, the giant sleigh was gone. The sky turned dark and the snow again started falling.
Within minutes the soft flakes had covered the tracks the sleigh had left along the river bank. Yes, it could have been a
meteorite, but it wasn’t. And now you and I both know what really happened out there
on the Wilson River the other night.

HOME | EMAIL