The fourth Sunday in Advent: Peace on Earth.
The darkness escapes. Something is forced the darkness away, and hastens the entering of a crystal-clear and sparkling winter dawn.
Staffan leads us back to Mårtenstorget and we plod through the deep snow, back to the crater where I found Gloria.
”Here it is”, says Staffan. ”The star fell here”.
”The halo”, I correct him.
”But I have already searched here”. Gloria jumps back into the crater. ”I was looking here when Bo arrived”.
”It was here it fell, absolutely”. Staffan takes a long stride with difficulty closer to her.
”It is perhaps buried deeper”, he says and I look around for something to dig with, but don’t find anything. Not even a wasted McDonald’s box.
I jump down into the crater to join Gloria and Staffan and kneel in the snow. With my hands I begin to remove the snow getting deeper into it. In the corner of my eye I can see how Staffan kicks the snow away with his big boots. Gloria sits on the crater bank looking at us.
My mittens are soaking wet from snow and I can feel the cold getting to my fingers. They are getting stiffer and slowly numbs, but I continue to dig. I crawl around in the snow and dig deep down to the cobblestones.
At one spot the cobblestones are taken up, as if they’ve been blown up. The snow has filled the small hole, and there, under the wet white flakes, a golden glow is pulsating.
”Gloria”! I exclaim. ”I think I’ve found it”.
She immediately approaches me, puts her hands over mine.
”Let me”, she says and I pull myself aside, letting her dig the last snow away.
A light is living down in the ground, in the heart of Mårtenstorget. The strong light is blinding me, almost forces me to look elsewhere. And it suddenly makes me feel completely calm.
”Find the halo”, Lucia said. For her to show the way and everything will be as before.
When I defy the light and look at Gloria, a ring of radiance is hovering over her head.
All of her is shining strong and sharp and if she hadn’t had that dark gaze in her eyes I wouldn’t have been able to look at her.
For the first time a really believe. For the first time I know. It doesn’t matter if it all is a dream. I know that I was right once. And I do remember her. How I used to wave at her, and how she always waved back. High above, like a twinkling star on the beach in the Golden City.
”You ought to go back now”, Gloria”, Staffan alerts and looks around. ”You are expected”.
Gloria looks at me. ”Do not forget the time. Do not grow old”.
”I think I have to”, I say and stand up.
”Not in your heart”, Gloria says and smiles.
I nod, and make a promise. She throws herself into my arms and gives me a big hug. I hold her in my arms even if my hands are burning and my cloths start to smell of smoke.
I place myself beside Staffan, waving. And Gloria disappears.
As suddenly as she appeared.
***
When Staffan joins me on my way back home to my apartment everything is all right again. The city of Lund is full of life. The shops begin to open. Students defy the snow and skid on their bikes. Unusually few families with children are on their way to school. A senior citizen is walking a high-pitched barking little dog.
It is like nothing has happened, but in my heart everything is different.
When we part we don’t say a word. I’m standing at the entrance watching him when he disappears down the street and wonder if I ever will see him again. Him, Gloria and Lucia.
In the apartment everything is the same as when I left. I glance at my desk.
Of course, the exam.
Because whatever happens some things never change.
***
A few days later.
It is the fourth Sunday in Advent. The day before Christmas Eve. It’s in the evening. I have returned to the home of my childhood to celebrate Christmas, and inside the home the last minute preparations are made. The ham to be dipped in egg and bread crumbs and roasted. The meat balls to be fried. Christmas presents to be wrapped and hidden for Christmas Eve.
It’s snowing again. Big white wads of cotton falling from the sky, as if somebody is sitting up there and let them fall one by one. Or plant them in the white fields. It is so remarkably silent as it only can be when the snow falls, all sounds subdued. The only thing you can hear is the squeaking of my shoes making deep marks in the snow behind the house.
There are no stars in the sky at all, but it is said that the Star of Bethlehem to lead us is brighter than all the other stars together. Tonight you can see it through the falling snow, just above our house where it has stopped. It has an assignment, but tonight it can still stop and rest for a while. And I wave, because I know she can see it.
The Star of Bethlehem. Or a little girl. With a halo.
Text: Emma Andersson
Translation: Lars Jansson
