This Christmas eve we travelled to Regensburg to shop at a Christmas
market we had read about. We parked our car and began a walk
through the narrow streets. The first thing I noticed was the lack of
activity. The streets were empty. No one was out. Restaurants
were shuttered, only a few shop doors were open. The Christmas market,
advertised online to be open until 2pm, was partially disassembled…
empty. We passed few people as we made our way by orange and blue and
yellow painted buildings. The carved stone facades framed rounded old wood
doors with hand-wrought iron handles. We relished the architecture and
marveled that the buildings we passed were older than any we’d ever seen in our
young country!
As we toured the still, quiet city, our bellies began to rumble. Deciding
to go to the next open restaurant, we found ourselves in a small café with tiny
tables and tall chairs. The menu was entirely in German, no two-word quasi-English
hint as to what each item was. So we ordered blindly, looking around at
the plates of those around us. It was a true culinary adventure as the
waitress brought plates of cheeses, meats, breads, and sauces – among them, a
spiced honey, a fresh strawberry jam and spicy mustard. There were a
couple of bowls of soup as well. We had a tasty meal and left the café
filled with good, new food.
As we walked back to the car, we passed a brass band playing Christmas
carols. A few onlookers had gathered, the most people we had seen all
day. It was very interesting how the German people had holed themselves
into their homes on Christmas eve…probably preparing for the big day, or simply
spending time with family. Even though we didn’t get to go to the
Christmas market we had looked forward to, I was satisfied. I liked the
quiet…the simple white lights strung from buildings across cobbled streets were
evidence that Christmas was celebrated and loved. I didn’t miss the
hurried hubbub of shoppers.
Back in Velberg, we took a walk through town as the sun set. We were
mostly alone, a few dogs wandered and a man swept his porch. We smiled a
greeting as we passed. The narrow cobblestone streets wound through a
tangle of buildings, most with a shop or restaurant on the ground floor and
apartments above. In the doorways of each were simple Christmas
decorations consisting of twigs, logs, wood stars, mercury glass globes, red
berries and a candle in a lantern, glowing with soft light. Communal
living is the standard in Germany and each porch hugged the street, leaving no
room for fancy decorations, if the inhabitants had even wanted such a gawdy
display. The décor was much different than the shiny, colorful, cartoony
décor of home. A nativity scene in a window, unpainted wood ornaments,
candles, greenery, white lights. Simplicity reigned. Much like the
simplicity of the first Christmas. Just a stable and some hay…a king in a
manger. Plain but profound.
I think I may pare back my Christmas décor after experiencing Germany at
Christmas time. The spare, natural way they celebrate is very
appealing. The way they finished their hustle and settled in to celebrate
was sweet with solitude. At first, a little haunting, but ultimately,
serene and more conducive to worship and honor of the real meaning of the
season.
Christmas in Germany was less than what I expected yet ultimately exactly what
I wanted…to appreciate the purity of what Christmas is really about. To
celebrate the beauty and grace of all that God has given us in his Son and His
creation.
