Carolers of Christmastide
Carolers of Christmastide
The steam was rising off the pots of hot chocolate and coffee and hot water for tea, simmering on the portable propane stoves as the activists started the final day of their build on this Christmas Eve morn…
…from all walks and aspects these zealots of good assembled to complete the critically essential enclosure of the community shelter against nature’s clock - the leading edge of a winter snow is already here…
…the nice final touches could wait - the temporary heaters and lanterns were almost in place - but the unnatural warmth is crashing to an abrupt end - if the remaining openings are not covered today, many fellow citizens will suffer a bitter freeze as their gift at this most holy of giving times…
In a rare display of unity, the community coalition members are braving the bitter cold and the threatening fresh snow on this Christmas Eve morning in the face of the undeniable certainty of catastrophe…
The magic of Christmastide at its height is in full force - in fact the hidden, ethereal forces - the sprights, the spirits, the ghosts - all of the inner voices and each and every element that moves the soul is in play today…
…few there are who are not affected - including these warriors of good, who, spurred and elevated are adding to the mix, contributing their energy to a sphere already in a very special mood...
…carolers are already out, softly preparing for a day of music, gently warming and humming - their notes and beats a part of the early morning buzz, stirring our gentlefolk to join in as they assemble - most of them…
…the marvelous feel of this sacred day disrupts the normal flow of all - especially affecting the two masters of this noble band - the singing, the bells, they distract from their aim - today their strong willed demonstrations are out of place, really - the elevated spirits of Christmas have emerged…
…and masterful spirits, kindred but far more evolved - the angels, the high elves of lore - the very real inner aspects of strength of the kind folk, one and all - this is one of those precious critical points in the realm of happenings when their awesome majesty shines, causing and provoking…
…and our band feels the effect: Suddenly and shockingly, their gathering comes to an end with an explosion of emotions - the impact of which launches yet another poisonous wave into the common swirl.
So jarring against the backdrop of revelers bustling in final preparations for their most precious day.
They had gathered on this Christmas Eve morn with the most noble of intentions, or so all had thought, and now to be disbanded and discharged so abruptly is unbelievable.
Moved they surely were, but not by the music of the caroling - rather, it was the the snipes and barks from Old Nez and Bah - at each other once again, right from the start as they assembled - clearly making the most of differences in understanding of their purpose - and even the very need - for today’s gathering.
Sadly these two “forces,” they of the relentless energy, even on this Christmas Eve they are unable to contain the negative spirit between them…
…the one, always restraining the work of the activists - the other, quite the opposite, forever pushing and pulling to new limits and beyond…
…both thoroughly infused with the sparks and passion that turn ideas into action, and both completely moved by their cause - and thus primed to make the most of the spirit of the season to bring others along…
…Old Nez and Bah - rival leaders of this noble work - trapped by their own separate visions of how to carry it all out.
Their rage over their differences had broken through the merry mood, as well as the common bond of their project.
Truth be told, most of the folk shared the same inner feelings of Christmas and would have worked it out and pressed on if left to themselves, but tis the season of many forces, and these two - influencers as much as leaders…
…perpetually in opposition, despite their common purpose and passion - he of the stern and grim demeanor, forever warding and deflecting - and she of a pure openness to one one and all, forever venturing, reaching - even screeching in her zeal - they infuriated one another in the extreme.
In the crazy haze of the glorious morning - and that of their own frenzy - whether it was the fog and the mist, or the murky swell of their own sensations and reactions, their beings, their own driving forces was forcing them - all of them - apart.
A moment in the sphere for the common buzz to take over - the masters of it, the wily elsprights of Christmas, they absorbed this and other happenings and re-launched their own notes into the ether on the wings of their ethereal spiders, darting and dashing, buoying and weaving - such is the magic of this most holy of days.
The one grouping standing their ground and closing ranks around their sneering leader - those retreating called out “Scrooge” as they departed - he of the perpetual huffs and puffs and growls, seemingly glad to be rid of the troublemakers and now rallying his flock to get on with the party he “knew” they really wanted, to celebrate their genuinely great accomplishments.
“Bah” she shot back as she hurried the others away, dispersing, yet held together by their connection skills, comforted by their network of inspiring touches, fighting a blizzard of both the natural elements on this snowy, sacred day, as well as the crazy ones of this season turned upside down - and now add to it all the rage of feelings over their explosion…
…for all of them, as they come down from their heightened fury, as they reflect on what has transpired - feeling once again the pelting of the first flakes, hearing the whisper of revelers embarking on last minute preparations for the big day, knowing that when the storm really hits as the light fades, with it will come the sure prospect of the invasion of the tormentors - yet another elemental force stirred amid it all - as the most glorious day turns to the fatigued dark of night…
…for it is these very shades of self, these carolers of conscience, these embodiments of the inner voices of elevated spirit - these elsprights - deep down at their core they share these mighty ones - transcending all else - if allowed.
They disperse into the snow, distracted, numb, crazy with what they just heard and how they were treated - unreal with the Christmas lights and sounds - extra so this year for some reason - certainly a blur of “elements” - wily elves certainly at work, as well as their ugly counters…
…between that damn clique back there - don’t they get it? don’t they know why we exist? how can they do this? - ugh, all this holiday spirit - and these treacherous sidewalks!!! - bruised and battered they stumble home.
Back inside it’s all on with the party - “so glad that’s done with” “we have earned some fun, really we have” “they really don’t fit”
A big red fire engine blares its’ siren briefly - quickly followed by Christmas music - all eyes turn - it’s Santa and reindeer high atop, jingling and ho ho ho’ing…
…between the dashed ones below and the dashers above and all the carolers in between, it’s the full holiday press…
“After all, it is Christmas Eve - let’s regroup later and pull ourselves together - I have some ideas to salvage our project for now,” Bah offers…
…coming down off their fury, the others calm and pitch in to arrange to deliver a scavenged supply of tarps and blankets during the day to provide a makeshift fix to seal off the remaining openings of the shelter.
“That should tide them over, along with the heaters and food we have already arranged - the others back there are supposed to be finishing that, putting them in place and making them ready - hope they remember.”
“They will - we really have given great service, all of us - let’s regroup at the tavern at dusk and raise a Christmas toast.”
/> And thus, as the snow descends and an eerie mist pervades, as the bewildering array of touches of heightened spirits takes over, all of the activists feel the pull and respond, each in their individual way, to fulfill their promise of giving, and deliver their tokens of care…
…despite the parting, in spite of the rage and rant that turned normal differences into catastrophe, each - other than those two - returned to themselves as the soothing, sacred spirits of the day took hold…
…still scattered and tattered they are, to be sure - as they labor through and gradually rebound, they remain haunted by voices, “this is not the way this was supposed to be” “we should have done better” “we were unrealistic to expect so much” “they were too content to stop” run their muttered comments as they trudge through the gathering storm to deliver and place the goods at the shelter “not the Christmas Eve we hoped for - nor for them.”
Nez and Bah put all of their efforts into taunting each other and siding with their own groups - the former out of sorts that the others kept “creeping back with their makeshift things” and the latter