When I went into the village for a few things this
morning the Salvation Army band was playing. They are
part of the Christmas landscape in England, as much as
tinsel, Santa and the annoying Christmas songs playing
on repeat in every shop. And, like all expected things,
they usually occupy only a small space in my consciousness. But
this year I heard the music, saw winter sun glinting off silver
instruments, the uniforms and the collection buckets with joyful
awareness. Here was precious familiarity at the close of a year
in which so much of the familiar is necessarily buried under
Covid rules.
The “normality” many people long to return to will not be coming
back. This has been a traumatic year and trauma lays a
demarcation line through your life, a distinct before and after.
As we celebrated Christmas 2019 we had no idea of what lay ahead
of us. The new year began and we never imagined something as
simple as going to a favourite restaurant would be forbidden.
But in the face of our new “normal” - the rules and restrictions,
the masks and the one way systems in the supermarkets-
there was the Sally Army playing Christmas Carols. I thought of
those lines from Walt Whitman, “....life exists and identity,
the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.” The
continuation of the tradition was their verse. Devoutly Christian
on the surface, rebellious at its heart, because it refused
despair, infused hope, encouraged the thought that though the
worst may not be over the best may still be to come.
As I walked home the sound of the band followed me - Hark the
Herald Angles Sing. I couldn’t help but mentally sing the words
learned in the carol concerts at Shenley School.
“Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the new born king.”
Words that have followed me from childhood to this moment of
adult life in the village of Stubbington. In that I saw the
continuity of life itself, flowing, river like, into strange
streams, unexpected tributaries, while carrying us always forward,
beyond the pains and losses as well as the joys and delights of
now, into a future we cannot know but which may be more than we’ve
ever hoped for.
Written 12/12/20
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