A Solitary Eve Remembered

In my memory, the streets, the sidewalks, the trees & bushes, the bridges & pathways were blanketed in powdery snow. I remember no ice, though it was cold. Very cold. The sky was never blue but rather an icy gray. It had been snowing for days. Austria could not have looked more like a picturesque winter wonderland if it had tried.

The small city – Saltzburg – in which I found myself that Christmas Eve was both foreign & familiar. People hustling about doing last minute Christmas shopping, yet without the glare of consumerism. Saltzburg, in the gently falling snow & cold felt too old-European for such garishness. Yes – so idyllic in my memory.

That evening – Christmas Eve – I was bound & determined to go to church. I simply always had. Not because of any particular Christian longing but out of a culturally bread sense of spirituality on this eve. But this was Saltzburg so going to church meant taking my Protestant self to Catholic mass. In a massive, echoing cathedral that was as inviting with its Christmas greenery & candles as it was strange with its Latin accompanied Catholic rituals. I stood in the back in a mass of people, most of whom were quiet, only occasionally respectfully whispering. They too might as well have been speaking Latin for all I understood. I stood gazing in wonder at the looming cathedral ceiling over my head – Catholic art work on display – saints watching, gazing back at me – the Protestant intruder in their midst? They were welcoming & comforting – oddly enough. An unseen choir sang from the rafters, its eloquence magnificently filling up every inch of space in the cavernous cathedral. A priest spoke somewhere way down in front. Through the crowd – I never saw him. Just heard his rhythmic Latin chanting.

It was not the simple, spiritual Christmas Eve of my youth. No. But it was moving in its own unique way. I recognized some of the music played & sung - a genuine connection from Catholicism to Protestantism, from Austrians to the American in their midst.

I stayed an hour. Then I left. The mass was still going on. Leaving the crowd behind indoors & walked outdoors into the quiet winter wonderland of snowy Saltzburg. Alone I walked, taking my time, listening to my feet crunch in the snow, as I crossed a bridge headed back to the hostel where I was spending the night. My solitary walk home that Christmas Eve I remember well. One of the best Christmas Eve’s I have ever spent.