"Good King Wenceslaus looked out, on the feast of Stephen!” What’s so special about Christmas? Nothing. Excessive expectations, eating too much. Doing things we’d rather not do. Sharing presents we don’t need or want and spending time with people who annoy us. Like my brother. Dammit.
The King tipped a stone from his boot and trudged on.
“Brightly shone the moon that night, though the frost was cruel!” Indeed – it’s bloody cold. People say it would be so much easier to just have a quiet day, as they do one last swoop around the markets. I wonder, how many of those people would choose to be alone at Christmas? Many could. The family would still be there the next day, mouths open, expectations intact. But who would choose that?
“Ye who now will bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing!”.
The King’s brow furrowed. Blessing the poor is indeed noble but surely far more noble not to have any poor in the first place. The King had a strong sense of social justice and, as a consequence, many enemies.
I wonder if Christmas alone would be easier? Do people who are alone want the obligation of gratitude to strangers, or friends, for their blessings? Maybe not. Maybe they prefer that Christmas pass as a day like any other?
Perhaps, with the reassuring expectation of gathering with one’s own, it is a little too easy to brush Christmas off as a silly commercial exercise and hanker after time alone. Time alone at Christmas is at once a symbol of failure and selfishness. Who wants to be branded as either?
Good King Wenceslaus looked up at his brother’s door. “Boleslaw the Bad” was engraved on the nameplate.
Time to make a choice. Christmas with the family or Christmas alone?
He knocked on the door. Boleslaw’s face was calm as he swung the meat cleaver at the King’s head. It was the last thing the King ever saw and then … nothing.
Jenny McDonald
The King tipped a stone from his boot and trudged on.
“Brightly shone the moon that night, though the frost was cruel!” Indeed – it’s bloody cold. People say it would be so much easier to just have a quiet day, as they do one last swoop around the markets. I wonder, how many of those people would choose to be alone at Christmas? Many could. The family would still be there the next day, mouths open, expectations intact. But who would choose that?
“Ye who now will bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing!”.
The King’s brow furrowed. Blessing the poor is indeed noble but surely far more noble not to have any poor in the first place. The King had a strong sense of social justice and, as a consequence, many enemies.
I wonder if Christmas alone would be easier? Do people who are alone want the obligation of gratitude to strangers, or friends, for their blessings? Maybe not. Maybe they prefer that Christmas pass as a day like any other?
Perhaps, with the reassuring expectation of gathering with one’s own, it is a little too easy to brush Christmas off as a silly commercial exercise and hanker after time alone. Time alone at Christmas is at once a symbol of failure and selfishness. Who wants to be branded as either?
Good King Wenceslaus looked up at his brother’s door. “Boleslaw the Bad” was engraved on the nameplate.
Time to make a choice. Christmas with the family or Christmas alone?
He knocked on the door. Boleslaw’s face was calm as he swung the meat cleaver at the King’s head. It was the last thing the King ever saw and then … nothing.
Jenny McDonald
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