A black cat wandered the high street on weekends,
proudly holding his curly tail aloft.
He was hated by people for the way he looked,
and they threw stones at him as his body melted away into the darkness.
He grew used to being alone,
and even liked it that way.
Caring for someone else was
just too much trouble.
One evening, the cat found himself wrapped
in the arms of a young artist.
“Good evening, my dear little one.
We're a lot alike, you and I.”
The cat squirmed in the artist's arms,
scratching frantically at him.
He turned back toward the path of loneliness,
and ran, and ran,
still unable to trust the first kindness...the first warmth
that he had been shown in his life.
But no matter how much he ran, the artist chased after him.
So the two came to their second Christmas together.
The artist gave a name to his friend - “Lucky Black, Holy Night”
Nearly every page of the artist's sketchbook was black,
and the cat had grown close to his friend, who spoiled him. But one day
the cat's owner's collapsed
from his life of poverty.
And writing a final letter, he told the cat,
“Run! Run!
Deliver this letter to my love,
who still waits for the return of this stupid boy
who took off with a head full of dreams.”
Nobody was going to buy photos of an unlucky black cat,
but you still only drew pictures of me.
And that's why you grew cold...
The cat took the letter without hesitation.
A black cat ran through the snowy mountain path,
holding the promise to his now deceased friend in his mouth.
“Look, it's one of the devil's messengers!” the kids yelled, and threw stones at him.
“You can call me whatever you want, because I have a name you can't take away from me.”
Holy Night... He called me Holy Night.
He called me it with all the warmth and kindness in his heart.
If even the life of someone as hated as me can have a purpose,
I was surely born for this day. I'll run as far as I have to!
He arrived at
his dear friend's hometown.
It was just a few kilometers to her house!
He ran, and fell,
his body always covered in fresh new wounds.
No time to stand before he was met with
violence and jeers.
“You think I'll just give up!? I'm Holy Night!”
Dragging his paws which felt as if they might fall off,
he ran even further.
“I've found it! This is the house!”
Reading the letter, the artist's lover added a single
letter to the motionless cat's name, and buried him in the garden,
laying the Holy Knight to rest.
