It was December 24th: Earth
date. We were stationed in
I stood outside, warm in my slightly shimmering thermal shield. Soft snowflakes
were falling, gently bonding with the settled glittering snow. Snow everywhere, ankle deep. On the streets, reflecting the
light from the old-fashioned street lamps. On the roofs.
Even the ground flitters were covered. I stood outside the embassy for a moment
enjoying the solitude. After a while I walked, slowly, on the crunching snow,
through the ancient city. In some ways it reminded me of Vulcan, in others it
was very different.
"Go and see what Christmas is all about," my father said, "see IDIC first hand."
"A, t'chi'tire" (yes father)
I strolled over the Charles bridge, along the houses. It was dark, but the
stars were bright. By habit I looked for Eridani,
and found home.
"Satuk!" I heard my name.
"Vaclav." I acknowledged the five year old
son of one of my father's team.
"I am so excited!" He said digging his gloved hands into his coat
pockets. Even Czechs got cold.
"Indeed"
"Yes, It's Christmas tonight. Baby Jesus is coming
to bring the presents, and the tree and ... ooh I wish you could come
too."
"Baby Jesus?" I asked perplexed. Of course,
I has learned about Jesus when we covered
Christianity. But I never heard about Baby Jesus bringing presents. Surely he
would be too old now.
While we talked we arrived at his home and he dragged me in. Marek, his older brother, opened the door.
"Satuk, live long and prosper," he greeted
me.
"Merry Christmas, Marek," I answered hoping
that was the correct phrase.
Vaclav had skipped to the kitchen and we were alone.
"Marek, what is this about Baby Jesus?" I
asked.
He laughed gently. "Vaclav still believes," he grinned and continued.
"In our country, the children are told that baby Jesus brings the tree -
all decorated - and the presents. In reality it's the parents, and the older
brothers or sisters who decorate the tree and put the presents underneath it.
The younger ones get ready for the feast. When we are finished we open a window
and ring a bell. Then the young ones are allowed in and it's a great sight that
greets them." His voice was a bit wistful. "Yes... a large tree, all
alight with real candles, bright glass balls, and presents underneath."
"Oh," I said and thought how strange that children
were encouraged to believe stories that were not true. We too had saga's and stories but from the start we were told what was
fact and what was embellishment.
Marek led me though a closed door. There stood a
majestic tree, partially decorated with beautiful artwork. The smell of the
fresh pine made my head feel light. I started to understand a bit of this human
magic.
Before I left, their mother gave me a wrapped box of Christmas cookies, to take
home, tradition she said.
I walked home, slowly. Glancing into the brightly lit
windows. I saw families gathered round tables, silhouetted in the orange
light of candles. Families sitting round the tree, the small ones passing the
presents round.
I walked till
An arm softly rested on my shoulders. I felt my father's essence, and through
him my mother waiting for me to come home, and through them Vulcan and the
connection that existed between the Vulcans and the
Creator.
"T'chi'tire," Father, I whispered, ashamed
of my emotional state.
"Do not be," he said, "What have you learned tonight."
"A first hand experience of Infinite Diversity in
Infinite Combinations. But I am glad to be Vulcan."
A slight smile touched my father's face. He left his arm around me as we went
home.