Not a New Year's post

What's that?  There are seriously less than 12 hours left of 2011?  That crept up really fast.  While New Year's Eve is typically a time where I think a lot about what's happened over the year, and while 2011 has been a year full of really memorable moments and a couple milestones (graduating from college, my first Mac [ha], moving back to Europe), I'm going to leave the reflections for later and gush as I tell you about my Christmas.

I was so pleasantly surprised at how cozy it felt.  I've been an ocean away from my family at Christmas before, and it's hard.  But if I couldn't have my family with me, I think this was the next best way to do it.

First, you should know that Santa does not visit Austrian children.  Saint Nicholas comes on the 6th of December to fill good children's boots with chocolate, oranges, and nuts, but he has nothing to do with Christmas.  In fact, outside of my room, there was not the smallest clue that Christmas was approaching until Christmas Eve.

This is because the Christkind (literally, "Christ child") brings all of the decorations and gifts together on the evening of the 24th.  So we locked the living room door on the 23rd, to give the Christkind plenty of time to transform our living room without peeking eyes.

On Christmas Eve (called Weihnachten), we dressed up for Kindermasse (children's mass), came home from church, ate a delicious salmon dinner, and awaited the bell that would be Christkind's signal to us that he's unlocked the living room door.  You should have seen the girls when that bell rang.  They burst into that room like nobody's business, and we walked in to find a beautifully decorated and lit tree, gifts surrounding it on all sides, a giant polar bear on the couch, and other little Christmas-y things scattered around the room.

Elena and Elisabeth took turns at the piano as we sang Christmas carols together.  You're welcome for only making you suffer through a minute of our singing.  ;)

We snapped a few pictures in front of the tree and got to work on the pile of gifts.

Shortly after, we headed around the corner to the grandparents', where Oma and Opa, the uncle and his girlfriend, and the aunt were waiting for Christkind to ring their bell, and when he did, I had a clear view of the girls' face, and it was as if any American kid had seen Santa, himself--they were beside themselves!

We headed to the living room, opened the door, and my breath was just taken away.  There stood a giant tree, grazing the ceiling, with beautiful ornaments, lights, and...CANDLES!  I've only seen this in books and movies, and it was the most beautifully decorated tree I can remember.  I was seriously in heaven for the next 20 minutes or so.  Opa, in his suit and tie, read the Christmas story from Luke as we all stood side-by-side, and then we sang several more German Christmas carols.  Oh, if I could do this every day, I don't think it would ever get old!

And then came the cookies.  A GIANT plate of them sat on the coffee table as everyone opened gifts.  At least 9 or 10 different types, and not the typical ginger snaps or sugar cookies.  These were beautiful.  Almond clusters, marzipan-covered macadamia nuts, chocolate-covered hazelnuts, coconut balls, lebkuchen, and others I don't know how to call.  We went through it in 40 minutes or so, and out came Oma with the plate re-loaded.  And then again.  And then, the next day, at lunch, we had a couple more platefuls!  I tell you, these crazy Austrians are baking for weeks to prepare for Christmas!

To cap the evening, I got to Skype with Gran, with Patti, Charlie, and my sister, and my Mom.  And the next day, I watched my parents, uncle, sisters and brother open their gifts via Skype, got to call Grandma Ditz, my German grandma who doesn't have internet, and call Grandpa (and, oops, make him cry), and Skype with my amazing Boston aunt, uncle, and cousins.  There is no other way to describe how I felt than full with happiness to the point of bursting.

Honestly, I ask myself:  is this really my life?  How did I manage to get to experience this beautiful Austrian celebration?  How did I get so lucky with such a family, who still fill me up even when I'm several time zones away?

I wish you all as many smiles as my face has shown lately.

Grace and peace,
Hilary

Precious stone, precious friend

You know, I have some fantastic friends.  Really, truly, world-class friends.  I'm going to take the opportunity presented to me by this blog to brag a little bit.  I would like you to meet Amber.

Doesn't she just look like a little bundle of fun?  That's just exactly what she is.  But she's a wise bundle of fun.  And a sneaky one, too.  She sees right through me, which is sometimes nice, and sometimes not nice.  I can go into a conversation with this girl, and whether I intended to tell her or not, she'll always know just which questions to ask.  Since I'm the world's worst liar, she really only has to look at my face to know the answer.

Something I love about her is that no matter what I'm talking to her about, I never feel like she's walking on eggshells.  She doesn't sugarcoat things, and she speaks her mind.

We Skyped on Tuesday.  We thought out loud together about how the transition out of the APU undergrad community has affected us.  How we really have been coddled for the last 4 years, with our friends close by, activities to attend any night of the week, and encouragement in our faith around every corner.  We talked about the future, where we hope to find ourselves in the next 12 months, what to expect, how to deal with disappointment and the required flexibility of this chapter of life.

We talked about so much more, but my point is, this girl helps me think.  Even though we could probably spend hours together just laughing and being ridiculous, I am never left in want after a conversation with her.

Here's to wonderful friends (and a couple of scary geese at Huntington Library)!

Grace and peace,
Hilary

Mailmen: an endangered species

"I pretend to work with one ear cocked for the sound of the post dropping in the box, and when I hear it, I scramble down the stairs, breathless for the next piece of the story."

-The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

An American family at church learned about my free time and my endless appetite for a good book.  When I told them I'd read all of the English books I brought, all of the English books in my Austrian family's collection*, and had started on the German ones, they kindly offered to have me over after church to peruse their library.

I went last Sunday and was sent home with a bag of six English books.  Praise the Lord!  I finished the first one** on Tuesday (oops), and started another one right away.

This second one is called The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.  The thoughts of mine it's evoked are just as intriguing as the title is.  It's historical fiction and takes place just after World War II and the German occupancy of the (English) Channel Islands.  It's a collection of letters between members of said society, an author in London, and a couple of her friends.

Now I'm slightly mourning the extinction of good communication via post.  Don't get me all wrong--I am SO grateful for technology like Skype, where I can see my sweet sisters' faces and hear their voices.  But it gets me thinking about this generation's need for instant gratification.  Where has our patience gone?

These letters are long, with feelings and stories and questions and answers.  They were so meaty because they didn't have Facebook news feeds to keep friends caught up, or e-mails for a quick, time-sensetive question.

I can just imagine waiting several days for a reply.  When it would come, it would require more than a minute and a half to read.  I would examine the way each "h" and "s" loops and turns.  I think I would appreciate that the handwriting makes it even more personal...not just anybody could write that letter, only the friend who would sign it at the end.

I wish I had that.  It's not really possible, I suppose, as almost all of those with whom I love to keep in touch have a Facebook, which updates me on their lives whether I ask it to or not.  I mean, I do still use the post.  I love to write little notes and send postcards to friends, and I'll always answer you if you send me a letter.  But how exciting would it be to have that anticipation of the next one coming, knowing it was the only way to really maintain that relationship?

So...who wants to be my pen pal?  =)

Grace and peace,
Hilary

*barring War and Peace, but not for lack of trying.  I made it 20ish pages in before I feared an internal shutdown of the brain.
**It was called Blink, by Ted Dekker.  Incredible book!  I read it perhaps 5 or 6 years ago, but the second time was not any less thrilling.  If you can get your hands on it, read it now!

Photo from http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2007/aug/20/week

Embracing the magic

There's just something about this time of year that has always enchanted me.  Of course, as a kid, it was the excitement of the presents, and the impossibility, but reality, of Santa Claus and his flying reindeer.  But as I grow a little older (though Mom still won't own up to playing Santa every year), I think the magic gets a little stronger.

It's a season when you can walk down the streets and wish passerby a Merry Christmas.  You can look up and see the evergreen wreaths, mistletoe hanging from doorways, and beautiful strands of little lights winking at you as you stroll by.  The carols are captivating, the Christmas cookies are filling and the fires inside are just waiting for red noses and numb fingers to come in and soak up the warmth.

I remember very clearly my Christmas season in Hungary.  It was easily the most difficult time of the year, being away from family, in the midst of unfamiliar traditions.  So I was prepared for that this year.  But I'm thinking Vienna's doing a pretty good job of reminding me of that cozy Christmas feeling.

I went into the city on Saturday to meet up with some friends and go to one of the Christkindlmarkts (Christ child market, also known by Christmas market).  We decided to go to the one at the Palace Schönbrunn.  All I could do was smile, wide-eyed, all bundled up in my layers of clothing, boots, scarf, hat and gloves.  There was a giant tree, a brass ensemble playing Christmas carols, a choir singing and tons of booths selling locally made gifts and Glühwein (mulled wine).

Of course I miss my family (and friends!) at home.  But I'm keeping my chin up with lots of Christmas music and the rest of the warm traditions.

Happy Advent to you all!

Wishing you Christmas joy, grace, and peace,
Hilary

P.S. Happy St. Nicholas day!  I woke up to a surprise of an orange, some nuts, and a St. Nicholas chocolate!

Difficult

You know those things that really just suck to have to do, that you really don't want to do, that are really hard to do, but that just have to be done?  Worse than unloading the dishwasher or doing laundry or ripping off a band-aid.  They leave more than a little backache from bending over or stinging, sensitive skin with that sticky gunk from the adhesive.

I had one of those last night.  I let go of something I really wanted.  It's the first time in my life that I've fully and (sadly, but still) willingly given something like this up.  But you know what?  Even though that empty spot is really obvious and echo-ey now, I think it was the healthiest thing to do.  I can't visualize it yet, but later, I think I'll be grateful.

That still leaves me a little gloomy, though.  So last night I did a little soul care that needed to be done.  I picked up my Bible, yes.  But sometimes you need an extra pick-me-up in the mix.  So I went to my bookmarks bar and went to my trusty I-need-something-happy and hit my link to this video.  Then I listened to Christmas music for the rest of the evening.  Christmas music is never, ever a bad idea.

No way you watched that without smiling.  Now today, I came across something to rival it.  I'll leave you with this treat:

Grace and peace,
Hilary