I grew up in Northern Alberta and Christmas was a special time of the year. I recall cold winter nights. I mean they were cold–almost minus 40 at night. Our windows upstairs were partly frosted over and on moonlit nights the light kept me awake or that is what I told others.
During Advent, my mom and older brothers walked across the street for evening Mass. The younger ones, including me, went to bed. I did not fall asleep right away and would watch out the window for them to come home. I thought no one saw me, but my Mom would come up and tell me to go to bed.
The other experience I recall is the Northern Lights and how you could hear them as they lit up the sky. We don’t see them very often in Edmonton with the urban light. When we spent time at the farm at Christmas, we heard and saw them there. Again, on cold nights we heard the train (about a mile away) and it sounded like it was coming right through the house.
I wrote this poem several years ago about the magic provided by the Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis) and Christmas. What message was in those celestial colours and sounds? As a child, I thought the sky talked to me and told me a creation story.
Small children–
Breathlessly wait,
Peer through frosted window
Soak it in.
Heavens ripple–
Lights undulate;
A celebratory fury
An indisputable guide.
This old house speaks;
Nature answers–
The heavens crackle
Sweet symphonic sounds shimmer.
Earth’s floor–
Blanketed in white
Celestial colours speak to me
Captures young senses.
A vivid winter scene,
A sensual, sensory palette,
Reminds me–
Christ’s Mass is here.
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ivonprefontaine
Teacher as Transformer 