On the 23rd of December we made an Outing with several women and children from our weekly apostolate. The second floor (of where, I will leave out for discretion purposes) houses refugees mainly from Chechnia and Slovakia--women with whom we have become dear friends and children with whom we have become playmates. To be honest, they rarely leave the house unless they need to pick the children up from school or obtain visa information or visit the doctor--necessities during which they are always risking the chance of being caught and deported by the police. Pretty much they are hiding out with the sisters, attempting to work from Vienna to learn German and receive the right immigrant papers. So we spend our Tuesday evenings with them--playing, helping with homework, learning german, drinking tea, chatting, etc.
But for Christmas, we wanted to do something special--so we organized an outing! Alina, who, due to her fluency in Russian, really coordinated the entire day, went to the house to pick up the women and children who had enough money to pay the public transportation fare to come over to our house (about 4 euro for roundtrip). Alina recalls that at one point, some policemen were riding the U-bahn not far from where Alina was sitting with our friends. The anxiety in their eyes was visible as every bone in their bodies tensed and they remained very silent and serious. Despite having U-bahn fares, they always fear. Even the children are used to the fear. But they made it to our house safely and with lessening anxiety. We welcomed them for lunch! Three women from Chechnia whom we have become good friends with--Louisa, Luba, and "E" (I call her E because I cannot spell or pronounce her name) joined us with their children for the day--Louisa with her daughter, Ramnat, and her two sons (names, unpronouncable), "E" with Ela, Akhmed, and Ischmael, and Luba came without her son (who is an adult). Then, as a little surprise, a new addition to the second floor community decided to come as well--a woman from Afghanistan with her daughter and son.
After lunch we played and colored and hung out together, talking and drinking tea. Alina had coordinated a Russian cartoon for us to watch after lunch, but we soon realized that we had planned for our guests to all speak Russian--the Afghani family was a little surprise--and they couldn't understand the cartoon! So Alina attempted to translate the cartoon as it was playing. But the little Afghani boy was NOT interested in Alina's translation and he was bored out of his mind as the cartoon played for the other children to enjoy. I glanced his way and racked my brain for what I could give him to play with--he had already colored, drawn, and hung his pictures up on the wall; he had already played with the one toy truck we have (now lying on the floor scattered in pieces...children can be vicious sometimes) and we were saving the UNO deck from being destroyed in one afternoon. But then I remembered the Color&Hug - WeeBelievers dolls my aunt and uncle had sent me in a Christmas package just the week before. So I grabbed the first one I could reach in our toy cupboard. I pulled out St. Francis and handed it to him, handed him the markers, and then showed him that he could color St. Francis however he wanted. He was so delighted, not just in having something to entertain him, but that someone noticed him, him alone, that he was bored, and wanted something to do. So he joyously began choosing his first marker and his starting point. I sat on the couch half watching the russian cartoon and listening to Alina's translation, but continually being distracted to watch this little boy, sitting with his mother, both of whom are muslims from Afghanistan, both of whom were thoroughly enjoying coloring the crucifix hanging around the waist of the St. Francis doll. All I could think--only in Heart's Home. I think St. Francis was there with a huge smile on his face, repeating the refrain: "Lord make me an instrument of your peace." It was a little moment that gave me such a smile--one of our first Christmas presents.
After finishing the cartoon we searched and found and unwrapped and enjoyed Christmas treats, bundled up and boarded the #2 Straßenbahn and took a tour around the Ringstrasse (the famous street that used to be the city limits of Vienna--now just the street that encompasses the first of twenty-three districts), taking in the lights and sounds and smells of the season, getting off the tram at Rathausplatz to discover the Christmas Market and take advantage of the lack of snow, allowing us to play on the playground!
I will never forget riding the Straßenbahn ride with the kids who never go out except to walk to short distance to their school. Their delight and wonder awakening joy in me that has long been washed away by routine and indifference.
What is it to look at the little joys of Christmas as a child?
It is to ride the straßenbahn not merely to get from one place to another but to have the best moving seat from which to admire the Christmas lights and decorations on the hotels and buildings lining the Ringstraße, letting "oohs" and "aaahs" full of wonder and delight escape your mouth in a gasp, not only to join with children and excite their wonderment and be with them in their childhood, but to catch the "oohs" and "ahhs" coming from a true sense of childhood delight as you see these lights, really see them, for the first time.
Exiting the Straßenbahn and walking up to the Rathaus Christmas Market, my hands were filled by the squirming hands of Ramnat and the littlest boy as their excitement was made physically manifest and the could hardly hold themselves back from the spectacle of lights and Christmas magic before the famous city hall.
The Afghanistani girl had my arm and at one moment, with her face lit up not by the glow of the lights but the glow of her joy, looked up and exclaimed to me,
"WOW! This is really Christmas!!! This is such a gift!!! DANK SEI GOTT!"
Echoing her prayer of praise and thanksgiving, full of astonishment, I said my own,
"God, thank you for their joy and gratitude. Thank you for reminding me what my heart should look like, should be moved to exclaim"
We enjoyed going through the Market and seeing the creche exhibit and then spending time on the WET (not snowy) playground, swinging or climbing and singing Christmas carols.
As soon as the women and children were back at their home and we were returning to ours, Mathilde turned to me and said,
"Now that is gratitude!"
What a beautiful reminder it was for what this holiday is really about:
DELIGHT in the little things.
GIVING THANKS to God, no matter what you call Him or what you believe about Him.
a GRATITUDE that leads to pure ADORATION
that is the wonder and joy of a child-like heart.
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