THE CYPRESS AND MYRTLE TREES

One of my favourite books is 'The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse' by Charlie Mackesy and I was very glad that BBC screened an animated version of it over this Christmas season and also an insightful interview with the author.  So I took the book out of the cupboard and read it again.

We normally associate this season with joy and all things good. Rightfully so. But then again, somewhere, someplace there is sorrow and grief and sadness and a feeling of betrayal and being sidelined. There is this missing of someone, missing of a place called home and missing of  what could have been.

'What do you want to be when you grow up?' 'Kind' said the boy.

We have forgotten what it is to be kind.  Hearts rendered asunder by  words and actions. Kind - An almost archaic word that it comes as a surprise when someone says, 'You are so kind' and mean it.

The fox is caught in a trap. The mole says, 'If you stay in that snare, you will die.' So the mole chewed through the wire with his tiny teeth. That is kind. If we choose to stay in that snare, we will also die. 

'What is the bravest thing you have ever done? asked the boy to the horse. 'Help' said the horse. 'Tears fall for a reason and they are your strength not weakness.'

When you share your pain with your good friend or your adult child and both of you end up crying, there is healing in the solidarity. You may just lie in bed and wonder if there is a reason to get up. 'Sometimes,' said the horse. 'Sometimes just getting up and carrying on  is brave and magnificent.'

Promise.

I turn to Isaiah 55:13.

Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress tree and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree.

Cypress: In ancient Israel cypress represented healing, uprightness, evergreen, eternal life. They are long living trees that are able to endure harsh climates and poor soil. Bald cypress trees are valued for the rot-resistant heartwood of mature trees, so they have been widely used to make fence posts, doors, flooring,  boats, and more. Cypress was used in the building of Solomon's temple.

Myrtle: a slow growing fragrant tree, that is always green, with big beautiful blossoms and a strong root system. Even when it is cut to a stump, its roots cause it to sprout again.

Brier(s): symbolize dearth and drought.

This is my Christmas passage and it has become a personal anchor to hold onto. It is the promise of Cypress and Myrtle instead of  thorn and brier.

So, 'What do we do when our hearts hurt? asked the boy.

'We wrap them with friendship, shared tears and time, till they wake hopeful and happy again' said the horse.

THE LITTLE THINGS THAT I MISS

We were sitting on a bench on Calle de Alcalá in Madrid, listening to a group of 5 musicians playing  Pachabel's Canon in D when I became quite overwhelmed. How long has it been since I heard classical music performed on the streets.? Too long I must admit.

While I have approached the pandemic with a positive attitude, I can't help feeling that it has robbed us of 2 yrs of normal life, especially international travelling pleasure.

Now that the borders are open, the amount of red tape would put anyone off travelling outside Ireland.

What I dislike: 

1. Uploading covid related documents onto the flight app. It was good that I had helped a friend earlier to do the necessary. I had my laptop then and it was much easier. But in a foreign country I only had my phone so I had to figure out all over again how to manoeuvre fat fingers over a small phone keypad.

2. Wearing a mask for the whole journey. Friends had advised me to wear a KN95 mask and it wasn't exactly comfortable. I had packed a variety of masks and so I had a choice.

3. Going for the antigen test before returning to Ireland. The test was not scary but wondering what the results would be was nerve wrecking. What if the test turned out positive? That would mean an extended stay and another flight schedule. The inconvenience!

But that is what you call a first time try.

I had to do it. It had been too long not to go for a well deserved break.

And I am glad I did. No regrets.

Madrid is simply beautiful. We experienced the warmth of a  kind family. I haven't felt so welcomed in a very long time in the home of a people of a different language and culture. The extent of the food prepared for us and the time taken to accommodate us spoke volumes. It is not everyday that someone invites you to spend Christmas with his family. Christmas is usually family time, and very private. Yet, we felt nothing but love and acceptance.

I was dazzled by the lights. It was not just  the likes of Grafton or Henry street or the Christmas market that was lighted up. It was a whole city of lights. The artistry and colour coordination knew no bounds. I had never seen anything quite like it in any European city. 

Somehow the lights just blasted away - with a vengeance - the sadness and the darkness of the battle we had been waging for the last two years and are still waging today.  The battle that had crippled many and had robbed us of things we are familiar with, of hugging each other, of simply saying hello without restrictions. 

And we even went for a Spanish Christmas service. I didn't understand a word of it but the Spirit of God saturated my heart. God is the same, in any language.

And now I am home again in Ireland. 

Feeling restless. 

So I must plan another trip. 

Nothing will stop me now. 

Nothing will hold back the little things that I miss.

A LITTLE BIT OF CHARITY THIS CHRISTMAS

It was an icy cold Sunday morning and I was thankful that I had found a parking spot. It wasn’t easy to find one as the streets were busy and people were rushing here and there. I headed towards the church, head bent low against the ferocious wind and feet shuffling on the side walk as fast as I could to keep warm and to get out of the cold quickly. The thought of  colder days ahead wasn’t exactly very pleasing.

Then I heard a voice, ‘Any spare change for the homeless?’

I looked up and saw an elderly man with dishevelled hair sitting on the steps of a public building. He held out an upturned hat to me.

My head told me to move on quickly because he might not be a genuine case of someone in need of help. He could be part of a bigger syndicate, he could be an ex-murderer having served time or he could have been irresponsible in his youth (which led to his present predicament). In fact I never forgot the time when my father gave ten ringgit (2 euro) to a beggar who upon receiving the money, instantaneously headed to the nearest alcohol store to spend his new found wealth. But my heart told me he could have fallen between the cracks or was just a victim of unfortunate circumstances.

Why are there so many homeless and displaced people on the streets?

Homelessness in Ireland is an evolving social issue.

According to FocusIreland, the number of families becoming homeless had increased by 24% since July 2017. If before it was due to the pervasive impact of  the Great Famine (1845 - 1852), 20th century homelessness was associated with senior males who might have alcoholism or addiction problems.

The present day homeless population includes women and children as well. The reasons given are possibly the economic downturn coupled with the impact of reduced familial incomes, mortgage arrears and rental increases.

Having a home is a basic need that many of us take for granted. I have never been without a home. I cannot imagine what it is like to be caught in such a situation - to not know where your next bed is, to be constantly on the move and to be surrounded by fear and uncertainty.

The street lights are all up now and the stores are beautifully decorated for the season. People are busy doing last minute shopping to get all the presents to put under the tree. Chimneys are puffing smoke as fireplaces are lit. Mothers or fathers are labouring over the hearth preparing the children’s favourite meals. Even pets have their own special treats and tiny coats to keep their bodies warm.

And amidst it all,we do not see or we choose not to see the needy who are lying in our path. When a homeless person is found dead in a derelict building in Limerick, then there is public outcry and tributes start pouring in.

So I walked on and entered the church and soon the congregation started to sing. Except that I couldn’t sing.

I walked out and went to the nearest cafe and bought a takeaway meal and a cup of hot tea. Then I walked back to my car.

The elderly man was still sitting on the stairs.

I put some money into his hat and I gave him the packed meal and tea.

‘Is this for me?’ he said barely looking up.

I replied in the affirmative and decided to chat with him. Did he have children? Yes, a son who is living with his girlfriend. He had been sleeping rough for sometime now.

After that I walked back to the church for the rest of the sermon.

I know I can’t help all the homeless but just for that day, someone who could be my father or my brother, had a hot meal on the steps of a building on O’Connell street.

            Have a Blessed Christmas.