The twelve days of Christmas

It is still Christmas, in spite of what our preacher – a protestant woman by origin – claimed, that Christmas had come and gone and was over till next year. Clearly she had never been to Mexico where Christmas and the Christmas festivities last till January 6^th, when the three wise men arrived to give honour to the new-born king. Nor had she paid attention to the poem about the 12 days of Christmas and all the gifts bestowed upon an innocent girl by her "true love", including maids a milking and pipers piping apart from a partridge in a pear tree. And also in Great Britain and in the catholic churches in general, Christmas doesn't stop at Boxing Day. So we sang carols in church today, the crib is still in its place and there still is that feeling of joy and expectancy. What we expect, I do not really know. Is it the hope that the world may at last change and become a better place? That this child will bring the world salvation, peace and be a source of gladness? Are we expecting something great to happen? Or have all the lights, has all the music, lifted our spirits in these dark times, when daylight seems to fade almost as soon as it has appeared? For me this time is a magical time. As a child I loved it. It was about security and happiness, about family and of course about Christ. Not about presents. Present giving at Christmas is not a Dutch tradition. We might be given a book, even two books at times, one by the Sunday school and one by our parents. Reading was stimulated all through our childhood.

The saddest thing is to wake up alone on Christmas morning, something many people have to face. There are different ways of coping with this. Being alone and moreover childless means no family gatherings, no happy bustle around the big family table, a repetitive thing, for it also means no grandchildren and no way of experiencing the joys of one's own childhood again through one's offspring, through the eyes of happy children.

After the many carol services, the joyful Christmas concerts, the frequent rehearsals and two magical Christmas Eve services, at last the singing is over, the sheet music can be filed away till next year, and there is time to visit friends and family, to see exhibitions and explore a town or city. Or to go for a walk, weather permitting. As in England and many parts of Europe, the very wet and windy weather hasn't been inviting to venture out into muddy woods and fields.

Late afternoon sun on the tower of the Zuiderkerk, built as a protestant church in the 17th century by Hendrick de Keyser but no longer in use as a church.

Yesterday I spent a day in Amsterdam with a friend from University days, who now lives in Canada. Amsterdam was flooded with thousands of people, tourists, schoolchildren who are having their holidays, concert go-ers and museum visitors. We went to see an exhibition in the Hermitage, a former old people's home situated in a beauty spot on the river Amstel, and now a museum. The exhibits there are usually on loan from the Hermitage in St. Petersburg. This time there was an exhibition of paintings by the Impressionists. It wasn't as exciting as we had hoped, and the museum was far too crowded, but the building itself is well worth a visit. Especially the former church inside the building, which is now used for special occasions as it is a very spacious and long hall. I love the small organ there, but did not bring a camera and had to make do with my cell phone.

The organ in the "Hermitage", the former old people's home

To our surprise the afternoon was beautiful and sunny, so we went for our lunch to a cafe-cum-restaurant with a view of the river Amstel and the Munt tower. We could enjoy this view from our table next to the window for far longer than anticipated, as we had to wait over 30 minutes for our sandwiches due to a faulty handheld computer. I must admit we were given a drink on the house to make up for the long wait. But it is just annoying when others came in a lot later than we did and then left after having enjoyed their lunch while we were still eagerly and hungrily waiting for our modest sandwiches.

On our walk through the oldest part of Amsterdam with its many canals – and unfortunately in certain parts spoilt as it also houses the red light district – we came upon an old, hidden church, Ons' Lieve Heer op Solder, a Roman catholic church built by a rich merchant in the attic of his house during a time that Roman Catholicism was forbidden in the Netherlands. People met in secret and the front of the house did not reveal what was inside. There was even a separate apartment for a live-in priest. Although once a month mass is celebrated there, it is now a museum. I had passed it often, but this time we went in. It is a very interesting place, and the church with its three galleries has been lovingly restored. Because of Christmas it was beautifully decorated with pine garlands and red ribbons, but no flash pictures allowed. And because of the fading light outside, it was pretty dark, which made it even more mysterious. In fact this visit turned out to be the highlight of our day out, an unexpected treasure.

Looking down from one of the galleries into the main part of the church

On our way to the railway station we passed the St. Nicholas, - the big church opposite the station, dedicated to St. Nicholas, patron saint of Amsterdam - hoping to attend Evensong, a service which is regularly celebrated on Saturday afternoons at 5 o' clock. It is an hour of contemplation, peace and beauty after a hectic day in the busy city. Alas, not on this Saturday, as the two choirs responsible for the Evensongs, enjoyed a well-deserved holiday after all the music they had sung during Advent and at Christmas.