 Hallmark greeting cards bring you Robert Young in Mildred Cram's The Promise on the Hallmark Playhouse in Outstanding Stories chosen by one of the world's best known authors. Gentlemen, this is James Hilton. Tonight on our Hallmark Playhouse we present a dramatization of a story by Mildred Cram called The Promise. Like all of Ms. Cram's work, this has, if I might so put it, a meaning behind its meaning. It takes an affair of ordinary life and sees beyond it, much as a prison can reflect a sudden shaft of unexpected color. And perhaps I might add that in these days with all their anxieties, Ms. Cram seems to me the kind of writer one ought to be grateful for. As I start tonight, we have chosen one of Hollywood's worthiest and most deservedly popular actors, deservedly popular also on our Hallmark Playhouse, Robert Young. And now a word about Hallmark cards from Frank Goss before we begin the first act of The Promise. At Christmas, as on every memorable occasion, when you want a card that reflects your own good taste, one that your friends will single out to show to others, go to the fine store displaying Hallmark cards. Shop in the comfortable knowledge that Hallmark cards are always socially correct and warmly received. For that Hallmark on the back carries its own tradition. Like the sterling on silver, it's a mark of distinction. It says you care enough to send the very best. Now Hallmark Playhouse presenting Mildred Cram's The Promise, starring Robert Young. Can anyone identify the exact moment when a beautiful sunset begins or when a marriage starts to die? All you know is that a thing exists or does not exist. The first time Pat and Alicia Adams put it into words was that rainy night they were driving back from Nevada. Just before they reached the summit of the High Sierra's, Pat pulled into an old night gas station. The boy who was wiping the windshield kept staring hard at Alicia. I was used to that. Men always stared at her red hair and cool beauty. After five years, I still stared myself. That'll be 365, sir. Okay. Don't bother, Pat. I'll give him my credit card. No, I gotta go. Here you are. Will you write it up, please? Yes, ma'am. Hey, Alicia Adams. You're the one that sings. That's right. On the radio. Today I heard you this afternoon. You helped them open that new radio station, Amino. Oh, you were wonderful. Thank you. Let everybody know that she was the Alicia Adams. The curse of being a celebrity, I suppose. Hungry for reassurance that she was important. My name went out over the air too, but there was a difference. Who cares that today's script was written by Patrick Adams? We started down the steep grade on the other side of the summit. The rain was coming down faster than the windshield wipers could take care of it. Please don't drive so fast, Pat. I'd like to reach San Francisco in one piece if you don't mind. Okay. You really should have let me fly over to Reno. There wasn't much sense in us both going. I wanted to have some time alone with you. To talk. You certainly haven't done much of it. It's hard sometimes, especially when it's what you have to say. Oh, I dodge around it, Pat. The thrill is gone, isn't it? What is it, Alicia? Someone else? There never could be for me or the perfect husband, Pat. No complaints. Then your job? I want success, Pat. I want to be somebody with a capital S. A really big time scene. I see. And you think you can climb faster alone? We're headed opposite ways. It just isn't working out. I know. Pat, not so fast. The road is slippery. All right. You can divorce me. I won't stand in your way. We can still be friends, you know. Fine, fine. Let's announce it at our Christmas party next week. Ladies and gentlemen, Alicia and I have decided to be just friends. Merry Christmas. Pat, look out! There's a bridge! We're skiing! No pad! The days it lead to smashed guard railing and at ourselves. Our faces were chalky with shock and clothing ripped and shredded and plastered with mud, but by some miracle, we were unhurt. I told you to slow down. I'm freezing in the rain. Get help, Pat. Get help. Get help, but how? On a stormy night, there would be few cars on a mountain road. And then, above the treetops, I saw a misty light. Maybe a light from some cabin. If it was, there had to be a path leading to it. We found it. In a few hundred yards through the forest, we came to a clearing to a stone house. The light I had seen was streaming through an open doorway. Doorways to the dog and the figure of a man. Tall and very erect, despite his white hair. I've been waiting for you. Our car went off the bridge. I heard it. It's happened many times. My name is Adams. This is my wife, Alicia. I'm Peter Fauner and this is my friend Rex. You'd better hang your coats by the fire to dry. Here, sir. I'm chilled to the bone. I put some coffee on for you. They always like coffee. They? You mean other people who've smashed up on that bridge? They always come here. Well, I've never come closer to being killed, even enormously. Yet here we are without even a scratch. None of them ever show their injuries. They don't understand it because they all go on thinking they're alive. But we are alive. And very glad to be. I'll get some goat's milk for your coffee. I keep it fresh and cold in the creek. He thinks we're dead. Uh-huh. He may be a little touched. But just for a moment, I couldn't help thinking we might be. Oh, nonsense. Well, if we were, it would be sort of wonderful. No pain, no blood or anything. You know, the old man's place here would make a great retreat. Retreat from what? A lot of things. I could really work here. Oh, write that great American novel of yours. Suppose I could talk the old man into running into us? For a year, maybe. We could toss up our jobs and really live. Would you do it, Alicia? Would you be happy? Oh, stop it, Pat. You just asked that to make me seem selfish. Desperate hope. The old man came back with a goat's milk. And his heels was another dog and a couple of cats. He seated himself in an old rocking chair, took out a hunting knife, began to carve something into a gnarled wooden staff. Pat, how are we going to get home? I will help you. You? You see, everyone who comes to my door goes home by the same path. The same path? The first couple that came, a farmer and his wife, when they knocked on my door, they were frightened, like lost children. But you don't understand, really. They stayed with me all night. In the morning they said they wanted to go to heaven, so I made them two walking staffs and carved their names on them. They took their staffs and I led them high up to the top of the mountain. They thanked me and went on by themselves. They seemed to climb a trail of light up and up until it last. They disappeared. You don't think he's carving ours? Not the letters A, L, I, C, I, A. It was frightening and yet somehow it wasn't. He was a nice old guy, but crazy. He had to be. He finished carving the staff and began on a second. Alicia yawned and laid her head in my lap. That? Yes. You make a lovely ghost. I've been thinking about us. We started right. Why can't we go back to the beginning? Because we want different things. I want the big time. You want to write a great book. If we have to sacrifice for each other, we'll be enemies. Alicia, I want you to succeed, but I've got to do something important too. I'll need your help. Don't you understand? Alicia. She's asleep. How was it in the beginning with you and her? How was it? It was wonderful. She was with the USO troop in Europe. She was doing a little singing even then. I was just another GI and then it happened to us. Oh, of course darling. I've always wanted to marry a writer. Well, you put me in your very first book. I want to be famous too. I took her home to San Francisco and got a job. Writing for radio. Oh, Pat, how exciting. Maybe there's a chance for me. Maybe I could sing on the radio. You then tomorrow and every day Monday through Friday to Alicia Adams. Darling, I'm a hit. They tell me I make every song I sing sound like I'm in love. And are you and fixed us a light breakfast and then went out into the clearing to feed his forest animals. We watched him from the window. The deer ate out of his hands, even the birds in a bare cub and two small red foxes. Listen, Alicia, let's get out of here before he comes back. We can't, Pat. Why? Well, he's so sure we've been sent to him. If we run away, we'll be letting him down. But you've got a broadcast this afternoon. I'll get there, if I'm supposed to. Then you believe we are dead? We might be. And if we are, well, he seems to know the way. You've changed, Alicia, and I love you. I'm not sure we want to. You must not be afraid. Come take your staffs. It's a long climb to the top of the mountain. You must continue straight up this ridge to the top. But you're coming with us. Not for a little while. On Christmas Eve. But you can't possibly foretell when you... I am like my little creatures. I know when my time has come. I wonder if you'd do something for me. Of course. Today, you will both stand before the throne. Will you tell him about Peter Fauna? Well, don't you see that? Tell him that the deep snows are coming, and my dogs and cats and goats, the deer and rabbits and bears, will be hungry. Tell him that on Christmas Eve, Peter Fauna must climb the mountain himself. My creatures will come to me for food, and I will be gone. He will understand. He will send someone to take my place. Will you tell him that? Yes. We promise. Thank you. Thank you, Boar. And now, goodbye. Oh, wait, sir. Take my staff. It's deep going down. I'll be all right. I will prepare my own staff when it is time. Then we'll be seeing you. On Christmas Eve, that is a promise. Yes. Well, Pat. The top of the mountain isn't too far. Now who thinks we're dead? Well, you believed Peter for a while. Only because he was so sure of everything himself. Pat, we can prove if we're alive, if people can see us, then we'll know we're not dead. You mean go back down to the highway and try to hitch a ride with somebody? Yes. I want to be alive, Pat. I want us to start all over again. You want us? Darling, maybe this had to happen to put us right with ourselves. Maybe this is our second chance. All right. Let's go back. Let's find out. Frank of our car. On the bridge above us, there was a highway patrol car. We scrambled up the embankment to it, but the car was deserted. Just then a truck whipped into view. We waved our arms frantically. Maybe he just didn't want to stop for us. That was it, wasn't it? He just pretended he didn't see us. Yeah. Pat, I don't want to be dead. Car down there, minute three. Please. Please, please. But we'll return to the second act of the promise, starring Robert Young. When you're a tot of six, there's a special magic in the week before Christmas. Remember? Clement C. Moore captured this breathless excitement in his poem, The Night Before Christmas. Even the rhythm he used seems to catch the quickening pace that reaches its climax on Christmas Eve. Remember the stanza? Now dasher, now dancer, now prancer and vixen. On Comet, on Cupid, on Daunder and Blitzen, to the top of the porch, to the top of the wall. Now dash away, dash away, dash away all. Imagine the joy to your little folks if one day soon they'd receive their very own special Hallmark Christmas card from you. And eat us more than a card, it's a storybook present. Hallmark has reproduced the complete poem of The Night Before Christmas, has illustrated it beautifully with Catherine Barn's drawings, and it is already in a booklet type card that goes easily through the mails. See this eye twinkling Hallmark card tomorrow. You'll want to send several. And please mail it early so the youngsters can enjoy the story the week before Christmas. This card is just one of the many famous Hallmark cards that are so beautiful they really keep safe treasures. Remember, look for that Hallmark on the back when you care enough to send the very best. Now back to James Hilton in the second act of the promise, starring Robert Young. Their car had skidded out of control on that mountain road, just as their marriage had gone out of control on the road of life. Now it was up to Pat and Alicia to get back onto the road, or some road. The highway patrol officer saw us standing there on the bridge. He couldn't have seen us if we were ghosts. He couldn't have heard our life of relief. We told him how our card smashed up the night before, and he listened. Yeah. Whoa. Where the blazes have you been since then? We spent the night in the cabin up the hill. Peter Ponder's place? You know him? Sure. Ho, ho, ho. I'll bet you fooled him. Oh. Oh, he's a little queer. Says he can see the ghosts of people killed on the bridge here. When he saw you, I'll bet he thought that he was very kind to us. Yeah? Well, I'm going to make kind of a report on this. Got your driver's license? I think so. My name is Adams, Patrick Adams. And I'm Alicia Adams. Alicia? The singer? Oh, then you've heard of me. Sure. Listen whenever I can. You got a swell voice. Well, thank you. Well, I'd better get my report book. You just had to tell him, didn't you? Is there something wrong with finding out if people listen to me? I see. Besides, I didn't promise to give up my job. Yes, Pat? Nothing. It's great to be alive, isn't it? She had a broadcast in San Francisco that afternoon. Could he stop a bus and put us on it? He could and did. He told the driver to step on it because this was the Alicia Adams. We reached the radio station barely two minutes before Alicia was due to broadcast. You don't have to come in with me, Pat. I've got to know Alicia before you go on in. Not now, Pat. But we are going on together, aren't we? Alicia. Pat, let me by. You can't keep me out of the studio. Tell me it's no divorce. I'm sorry, Pat. But there are so many things I want out of life. I'm not the right kind of wife for you. That isn't what you set up on the mountain. What happened up there was just our imagination. This is reality, not that. Now let me by, please. After the broadcast. Don't wait for me. I'm not going home with you, Pat. It's best if I send for my things. Alicia. Her came to the apartment for Alicia's belongings. After that, there was nothing left to remind me of her. Except my own loneliness. The next day, I threw up my job writing radio scripts. I might as well start in on my book. Nothing else was holding me back now. But the book wouldn't write. I told myself it was the emptiness in the apartment. I needed life around the place. Perhaps an animal. Well, sir, I can say to you a very fine pedigreed setter. I, uh, I really don't know. Well, if you're a busy man, you might like a pet that's, uh, easy to care for and feed. Feed? Yes. If you don't want to worry about complicated diet, feed. Tell him that on Christmas Eve, Peter Forer must climb the mountain himself. My creatures will come to me for food, and I will be gone. He will understand. He will understand. He will send someone to take my place. Will you tell him that? But we didn't tell him, Peter. I beg your pardon, sir. Do you know how to pray? Pray? I've never done it. If I could learn how, there's something I've got to tell him before it's too late. And if you'd excuse me, I think I have a phone call. I was in the field with last-minute Christmas shoppers. I went into a store and bought a present for Alicia to be sent to her hotel. Next morning, I propped the newspaper on the breakfast table and skimmed the headlines. The international situation, the Washington briefs, the weather report. Snow in high Sierras expected to reach San Francisco tomorrow. First heavy snow of season to... Snow. It hasn't just came. Oh, the bracelet is beautiful. I'm glad you like it, Alicia. Alicia. Yes? It's snowing in the mountains. Peter Fauner said it would. He said on Christmas Eve... Pat, please. Is that why you called me? He's waiting up there in that cabin to die tonight. Pat, you know he's a little odd. We made him a promise, remember? Even if he is crazy... Oh, Pat, stop it. Maybe there is. It's faith, we are in trouble. There is a better kind. The old fellow is crazy, but a promise is a promise. The bridge. I edged the car off the road and set out off the trail. I reached the clearing and there they were. The deer and squirrels and foxes. All of Peter's creatures waiting in a semicircle by the lighted window. That seemed to pick it up. You won't need it, Peter. Let me hold it. Declimb the mountain, Peter. If you're sick, I'll get you to a hospital. May not believe me, but do what you said on the phone this morning. Went to church and prayed. I said what we promised to say, remember? Please send someone to take care of Peter Fauner's creatures. Pat, I did get through. He did hear me. We've been sent. Oh, darling, now I've got the kind of faith you meant. The strength to come back to us. It's a new start for us, Dearest. The beginning of everything we planned. The book you're going to write. The songs I'm going to sing for our children. You who will be visiting Detroit in the next few weeks will be particularly interested in this. The International Hallmark Art Award exhibition will open at the Detroit Institute of Arts tomorrow and continue for three weeks. This is the only Detroit showing of the prize winners in what has been hailed as one of the outstanding art events of modern times. The award was founded to foster the growth of fine art, to stimulate interest in the work of living artists, and to give an opportunity to all artists to have their paintings judged and exhibited internationally. The paintings in the exhibition opening tomorrow are winners of $28,000 in prizes given by the makers of Hallmark cards. They represent the work of both French and American artists and were judged the best from nearly 10,000 paintings submitted. If you're in Detroit in the next few weeks, I believe you'll find a visit to the Detroit Institute of Arts most enjoyable and rewarding. You are cordially invited. Here again is James Hilton. Thanks, Robert Young, for your usual fine performance. Thank you, Jimmy. And I would like to add my thanks to Joan Banks for her splendid performance as Alicia. You know, I always look forward to being on the Hallmark Playhouse because the stories you select have a warmth and sincerity about them that makes one feel good, like receiving a Hallmark card from a friend. We like to hear you say that, Bob, for that's exactly what we strive for. We hope you and your family will be listening to our show next week because once more, we shall present the story that has become a sort of Hallmark Playhouse tradition. Here to Paul is the story of Silent Night. It's the beautiful and true story of the origin of one of the most popular of all Christmas carols. We'll certainly all be listening. Good night, Jimmy. Good night, Bob. Our Hallmark Playhouse is every Thursday. Our director, producer is Bill Gay. Our music is composed and conducted by Lynn Murray and our script tonight was adapted by Leonard Sinclair. Until next Thursday then, this is James Hilton saying good night. There are so lonely in stores that have been carefully selected to give you expert and friendly service. Remember Hallmark cards when you carry enough to send the very best. Robert Young, star of Father Knows Best, appeared to the courtesy of Maxwell House Coffee. The part of Peter tonight was played by Norman Thiel. This is Frank Goss saying good night to you all until next week at this same time. When James Hilton returned to present our special Christmas program, Here to Paul is the story of Silent Night. And the week following, Anne Barley's Patrick Gosney Mother starring Martha Scott. And the week after that, Henry F. Pringles standing on Roosevelt on the Hallmark Playhouse. This is C.B.S. McLean, your broadcasting channel. This is KMBC, Kansas City, Missouri.