A True Advent Story

 

Advent is a wonderful time and the Viennese love it. The city is dotted with small Advent markets, and all, more-or-less, exactly the same. A beautifully decorated tree, hot spicy wine, Christmassy things one can buy, a wonderful Advent feeling, and, of course, Advently seasonal music. And, about ten years ago, I was at just such a market, and this is what happened.

I was having a wonderful time. Everything was great and everything Advently perfect. But, it was the choir that provided the spirit of the evening. And, singing mainly in English, they were very, very good. But, the evening went quicker than expected and soon came the very last song.

The conductor turned to the people, thanked them, and wished them a very merry Christmas and a happy new year. And then, after turning back to the choir, closed his eyes, and started conducting the very last number. And, the choir started singing, and the crowd started humming and singing along. It was all very magic.

And, then came the the very last line of this very last song. And, just like a half dying swan in great pain, the conductor, with still tightly closed eyes, raised his arms in an arch, paused for a second, then flutteringly and dramatically brought them back down again for the expected well practiced majestic conclusion. But, the choir didn't stop. They simply carried on singing! The last line had not been the last line at all. The singers had been singing from their song sheets and not even looking at the conductor. And, the conductor, because of his tightly closed eyes, had not even noticed he was being ignored.

But, all's well that ends well. With a very red face, the conductor conducted hard to catch up, and, of course, brought the concert to a triumphant conclusion. And, the applause was fantastic. The audience had had a wonderful evening.

And, that's how it was. An evening of magic with more than one or two glasses of hot spicy wine, and, of course, some Christmassy songs sung by a very fine choir.

Advent. A wonderful time that the Viennese love – and, I love it as well.

A Shimmering Caller

My Ghost From A Long Time Ago

 

There was always someone behind me. Following me from morning till night. But, whenever I turned round to look, he was gone. He was always quicker than me. Our home was his home. And, he and I got on very well.

My mother, too, felt his presence. He was always watching her cooking. Standing behind her. Maybe, he was laughing at her. My mother's cooking was never any good.

And, then, one night it happened. I have never forgotten it. I was at home all alone and in bed. It was about 2 in the morning. The middle of the small hours. Suddenly, I woke up. There was something very strong in my room. Standing at the bottom of my bed was a soft shimmering form. I sat up. I looked. This shimmering form had the guise of a monk. It was sparkling and looking at me. A very deep very black void was where his face should have been. I felt amazingly good. At last, I had seen him. Our ghost. For a couple of seconds, I said nothing. I then said hello. I waited. Enchanted. The ghost lingered a while. Then, very slowly he faded away. He was gone. I stayed awake for a very long time. Thinking. Wondering if the ghost would ever come again. I hoped so. I liked him.

But, I never saw the ghost again. He never came back. But, he was always present in our thinking. Then, one day, my aunty came calling. A nice occasion. And, over dinner, she told us her story. About 3 years before on a previous visit, My aunty was standing in our front garden. All of a sudden, a very strong feeling made her look up. There was the ghost. In my bedroom window. A shimmering form. A monk. My aunty had seen him as well. She, too, had been enchanted.

Ghosts are real. My aunty saw him, I saw him, and my mother definately felt him. Seeing my ghost did make a difference. I now know that ghosts do exist. I have seen. I can believe. That which was following me, as it turned out, was very much more than a feeling. My ghost from a long time before.

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