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Saturday, 9 December 2017

MY CHRISTMAS DIARY (THE SANKTA LUCIA OF LIGHT) BY FIONA CUMMINGS


The snow was due, the night was cold. Our tree lights were a glow and what better thing to do than something Christmassy. Something my Husband would love. He has had a very bad week at work. An overload of crappy things going on, an email from some of his staff warmed his heart and a gift from another colleague brought back his spirit of this time of year, but something that friends kind colleagues or his loving wife can’t buy for him is a spiritual feeling back in his heart. That feeling my Husband has lost along the way. Something I’m kind of half interested in doing, but the outcome would be I hoped to feel the warmth in my Husbands heart again. That was a time spent in a Cathedral. I text him at work to ask if he would be home at a normal time. His reply was ten minutes late. He had been to support his charity at an event in the Cathedral where he works with a couple of his colleagues.

 

My Husband used to be a choir boy when a child and later on in life he sang in choirs and groups and to get him financially through university, he sang for weddings and funerals, but Cathedrals have always been his passion.

 

For me personally, I’m not too comfortable with Cathedrals. Churches I’m fine with but Cathedrals, not so, but two years ago, we went to the Cathedral and was spellbound by what I heard. So, decided to surprise my love with going to the city and once again enjoying what they had to offer. So, what was it? Oh, my. Let me start at the beginning.

 

Isn’t it funny how we dress differently at Christmas? Or is that just me? Smile. I wore my brand new lovely long red coat and the fluffiest of scarves that is grey with matching lovely warm grey jumper and new grey trousers with my black leather gloves my Son bought me a couple of years ago and I don’t think I have had them on yet, well until last night. It’s only when you put gloves on as a blind person, do you realise just what an obstacle they can be.

 

We stepped out into the night the air was heavy but thankfully it wasn’t Icey. I felt so cosy under my lovely coat which has a beautiful fabric almost like suede. Again, I never wear scarves but this one again a gift, felt so lovely. It just has to be cold at Christmas. I don’t think I could feel at all Christmassy if it was hot.

 

As we headed towards the Cathedral, LF wasn’t impressed though his tail was high up in the air like a cat’s tail, he shivered less him. Well, though we were there quite early, there was a long, no, hang on, very long queue. Oh, no, guide dogs don’t do queues. Old Bloggets will remember our old Guide Dog Long Chops, she didn’t do queues. She just headed to the front haha. Mortified dot com.

 

Well I said to Hub we are going to have to find the back. It’s so wrong jumping the queue. Oh, who’s idea was that?

Well it wasn’t like twenty people in a long line, straight line, but more like two hundred people in a twisty line going on the kerb, off the path and around the corner. Trying to avoid the awful bollards that sadly we have to have now because of the horrors who get a thrill out of driving vans into people.

 

 Had we got to the end of the queue yet? Oh, no, down another step and eventually it went quieter. Voices faded. So, between the two of us, we found the back of the queue. Well, before we could  count to three, there were a bunch of people starting to queue behind us. Hub asked the man in front of us was he in the queue? Because knowing us two, it could have been a queue for the pub or a restaurant… but no, the man was indeed in our queue, or, we were in his queue.

 

Every time he moved, bless him, he told us. Because that’s another thing, if no one talks, how do we know when they have moved? Footsteps are not always easy to hear when there are other sounds going on like traffic, the bells of the Cathedral or the young crazies on a night of alcoholic poisoning.

 

Well the queue moved fast, up steps down and around the corners. Eventually he told us we were at the steps and in we went. Hub asked for assistance to find a seat. They are great in there, not only did they find a seat, but they get a carpet for the dogs. Laying on stone floor is so bad for them. Oh, my, it was so cold in there. Hub said that the ceiling is about the size of five of our houses on top of each other and our house is two stories high.

 

The enormous organ one of the oldest in the world was playing but you could hardly hear it. And, we were in the middle. Well, after I made my grand entrance, feeling for the seat making sure I didn’t sit on it backwards, it has been known, I’m such a pleb. Sitting on a pray mat, heck, they have come on, they did used to be, well, mats, but now they are really thick cushions. And I sat on the hymn sheet flying, hahahaha. Hub, just walks to his seat an removes his mat, I did not even have a clue that there was one on my seat, until I sat on it. Who’s I had knocked off, goodness knows. The best bit was when the first speaker, well, spoke, and I think she was the Dean, she asked people if we wouldn’t mind putting the mats on the seats to save the peoples backs bending down on the floor.

Woops!!

Fifi was in the building!

 

Oh Bloggets, then the magic began. Wow. After reflection time the heavens came to earth and angels sang to us, for us and all around us as the procession walked among us.  

 

It is called The Sankta Lucia festival of lights. An atmospheric candlelit procession and carol service based on the traditional Swedish   Lucia celebration.

 

In Sweden, Lucia is one of the most significant traditions in the calendar. A powerful symbol of light. The bravery and martyrdom a young Sicilian St Lucy who died in the early forth century.      Her name and story reached Sweden along with Christianity and she remained popular even after the reformation of the bringer of light during the long darkness of winter. The procession enters singing the tune that was brought from Italy to Sweden in the middle of the 19th century. The singers are dressed in gowns and carry candles with Lucia dressed in her white gown with a red ribbon around her waist and a crown of lights marking the kings on the twelfth night.

 

Seriously, I have never heard anything like it. The beautiful Swedish words and the purity of the voices really did sound like angels. How I would imagine angels, to sound. Almost like bells ringing in pure waterfalls! Oh, my. Goodness. Notes were created I hadn’t heard for so long. Everything was so perfect. It was as if all of my Christmas’s had come to me in a dream. Tears fell to my lashes and I had to keep my mouth closed or butterflies would fly from my lips. A truly magical moment.

 

All around us, in stereo almost, we were sang to.  Candles were burning so the smells were lovely. It was so cold though, so very cold. As the voices were meant to look ahead, I did smile as obviously they spotted the Little Fella who stood up tall as if to say, em, stop, stop right there, don’t step on me and I’m not keen on those burny things. Their voices went from facing the front to facing us, and you could tell by the sound of their voices, they had a smile so big. Oh, Bloggets, I have never heard anything quite so beautiful.

 

It was now time to find our way out of the Cathedral and try to find one of the many doors out. Hoping we would be out the right door as we only know the way to where we need to be from one enterence. The darling man who helped us in the queue showed us where to go, bless his heart. What a dear man. How kind and what a difference he made to our night.

 

It truly was a magical night.

© Fiona Cummings

 

 

 

       

 

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