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Rudolph inspires all misfit toys

Wow. I still feel sad when I see that little doll on the Island of Misfit Toys start to cry.

Dre, my sentimental husband, feels the same way when he sees that scene. He admitted as much earlier this month as we watched the rebroadcast of the beloved 1964 Claymation version of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Yes, you read it right. We middle-aged coots sat there in front of our TV set and felt a bit like boo-hooing along with that doggone doll on a stop-motion animated fantasy cartoon released when I was a 2-year-old and Dre was 3.

According to the Rudolph synopsis posted at imdb.com, "Sam the snowman tells us the story of a young red-nosed reindeer who, after being ousted from the reindeer games because of his beaming honker, teams up with Hermey, an elf who wants to be a dentist, and Yukon Cornelius, the prospector. They run into [an] Abominable Snowman and find a whole island of misfit toys."

In our weeper scene, the doll and her companions -- who have various imperfections that had kept them out of the "A" list of toys and gotten them stranded on the island -- have given up hope that Santa will come and get them and deliver them to new young owners for Christmas. Rudolph has left to go persuade Santa to come to the island and pick up the toys. But there's been a delay; heavy fog has threatened to cancel Santa's trip.

Luckily, Rudolph's luminescent nose saves the day. But, right before he, Santa and the other reindeer show up, the doll concludes they'll never get rescued. For what may be a split second before the toys and the viewers start to hear the jingling of Santa's sleigh, her tears come.

We weren't the only not-so-new-timers watching and feeling some sentimental compassion.

"Watching Rudolph and thinking that surely I wasn't the only kid who would have taken any of the 'misfit' toys," one Facebook friend posted that same night. "I mean ... a water pistol that shoots jelly? A swimming bird? A cowboy riding an ostrich? How cool!"

"I never thought they were that bad either," one of her friends replied. "The square wheels [on the back of another Misfit Toy, a forlorn little choo-choo train] weren't great, but everything else looked like any toy I had after a few days!"

Admits another friend, "I actually always loved the polka dotted elephant!"

I believe anyone who has ever felt like a misfit toy (as yours truly has) and suffered the sting of rejection for being "different" (again, as I have) has probably felt a pang of empathy when that doll started boo-hooing. The polka dots on the elephant could translate to unsightly zits or extra pounds on an awkward teenager. The ostrich-riding cowboy? He represents the nonconformists. The shiny nose for which Rudolph was given a rough time? On a human, a physical disability.

And, "misfittedness" aside, chances are that anybody who has been stuck in one rut or another has identified with those toys.

The cartoon also caused me to take a real-life look back. In the story, the doll's tears were short-lived. In my real-life Misfit Toy story, those tears lasted for years. My problem was, it took a while to hear the jingle of Santa's sleigh, even after it started. Once I heard it, I realized the jingling had gone on for quite some time. "Santa" -- for me, God, bearing not just his love but my own self-love and self-acceptance -- had not only come, but waited patiently for me until I heard him. My personal fog had been too thick. The toys were distributed to owners. I took ownership.

Fifty years later, Rudolph isn't just a Claymation fantasy cartoon. It's a lesson for those who still need one, whether they be members of the "in" crowd" or the misfits. For those of us who were once considered misfit toys and/or considered ourselves to be, it's an uplifting reminder of how far we've come, as well as a gentle reminder not to ever be among those who mess with the misfit toys or the Rudolphs of this world.

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hwilliams@arkansasonline.com

Style on 12/21/2014

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