A Christmas Eve to Forget (or perhaps remember)

The day started late, really sleeping in for the first time in what seemed like months. My stomach ached a bit, actually quite a bit - to the point of throwing up, which I did. I spent Christmas Eve in 2 places- my bed and in the bathroom, hanging over the toilet. It's hard to say what actually caused the trouble but it was a long 12 hour day.

We had a candle-light service at church and I went to fulfill various media responsibilities (both expected and unexpected.) I wearily made my way up and back down the stairs to take pictures before making my way up front to take some shots closer up. I sat down, tired and ill. We began to sing the final song, Silent Night, in German and it brought joy to my heart. It is one of the few songs I know by heart in German, the first verse anyway.

When I first arrived in Germany one of my teammates and I lived with an elderly couple from the church. They spoke very little English and I spoke even less German. Sometimes in the evening we would go in and sit with the man who would be watching TV, often an opera, and have a small glass of white wine. We would enjoy sitting with him for a few minutes and attempt to express how our day or week was. It was still October when I delved into my limited German knowledge to pull out "Stille Nacht" (Silent Night). He and I sang it together, a memory we both hold near to our hearts.

As we sang it in church last night I enjoyed it - from the depth of my heart. I sat there, next to a stranger, holding the camera and the candles were lit all around me. I was without one as my hands were full entering the service and knowing that I may not be able to participate due to other obligations. So I sat there, too weak to stand with those around me. The next thing I knew, a woman from the church tapped me on the shoulder and with her limited English said, "Evan, you don't have a candle," while handing me one.

It brought tears to my eyes. She knew me by name and met me right there. I'm not sure she could know how much it meant to me. There I sat, alone, thousands of miles away from home and she called me by name and gave me the opportunity to "participate", even if only in a small way, in Christmas. Tears filled my eyes and slid down my cheeks as the other verse were sung. It was beautiful. "Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht"
Silent Night, Holy Night..."Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!" Sleep in heavenly peace.

Merry Christmas