The [Im]Perfection Dare 2- To be a Pilgrim

A scene in a church

*blinks slowly*

A scene in a church?

What irony is this?!?!?!

Well, I'm pretty much moving into my church as of tomorrow- love you Christmas!!- so here we go!!

Dreckly doodles,

Z xx

*************

Cassidy had never seen the joys of Christmas. As a child, it meant that the whole family would get together, and this meant nothing but violence and arguments for the whole season. And once she left home, It went from bad to worse. Coping alone was difficult enough, but after becoming pregnant at just seventeen, she was deserted by the father, and disowned by her family. For her, Christmas was a time of scraping together what she had, and presenting that small amount with a smile, to the light of her life- Her 6 year old daughter, Melody.

Melody loved Christmas- it meant parties at school, and Father Christmas, and presents, and everybody smiling. Even her mam smiled, and that didn't happen often. Her school had told her the Christmas story over and over, and she had even been the  angel Gabriel in the nativity play that year.

And now, she was on her way to the Church, early on the morning of Christmas Eve, to go and make Christingles. Melody knew all about Christingles from the school assembly last week, but Cassidy had no clue what it was. All she knew was that she would have to return later for something called a Crib Service, and the next morning for the Christmas Eucharist.

Whatever that was.

"Come on Mammy!! We're here!!" Melody squeaked, as she struggled to open the heavy oak doors of the church. A helping hand from inside revealed the warmth of the church, as the pair were greeted by a man in black, that Melody knew from the school assemblies that he took each week.

"Good morning, Mr Stancliffe!!" She said, and the man smiled when he saw her.

"Hello Melody!! I see you persuaded your Mammy to let you come then? Come on in, my dear."

Melody bounced into the church, and Cassidy followed. The man introduced himself as Rev. Stancliffe, the vicar of the church.

The Christingle making appeared to have been moved up to mass production, as hundreds were prepared by the willing hands that had appeared to help. Cassidy looked on in wonder, as hundreds of oranges were impaled with candles, wrapped in red ribbon, and impaled again with cocktail sticks. By the end of the morning, things were slowing down, and the children were told that now they could make their own 'special' christingle for the service later.

Melody bounded up to her mother, eyes shining.

"Mammy, can you help me make my Christingle?"

"Okay... What do we need to do?"

"Well, first we need an orange."

Cassidy followed Melody's instructions, as she was led around the church to pick up certain ingredients to create Melody's Christingle.

"Melody?" Cassidy asked as she stuck the fourth cocktail stick into the orange.

"Yes, Mammy?"

"Why am I sticking candles and cocktail sticks into this poor orange?"

"Because it's a Christingle, Mammy. Each bit means something different."

"Does it? It just looks like a fancy orange to me."

"Silly Mammy!! The Orange is meant to show the world, because God made the world, and then sent his son to save it, at Christmas. Then the candle shows that Jesus was the light of the world, and the cocktail sticks, with the sweets and raisins on, are to show the four seasons."

"And what about the red ribbon? What's the point of that? Or is that just to look pretty?"

"No. It meant to be the blood that Jesus shed when He was on the cross."

"That's not very nice! I thought we were meant to be celebrating his birthday!"

"Yes, but by dying on the cross, Jesus saved us all. Everybody knows that!!"

Do they? Cassidy thought, as Melody skipped to put her Christingle away. When she returned, Cassidy asked her final question.

"But why do you celebrate Christingle? And why at Christmas?"

"It's to raise money for a charity called.... Errrmm... The Children's Society, or something like that."

"But why at Christmas?"

"Because some children aren't as lucky as me, and the charity help them to be happier at Christmastime."

Cassidy's heart ached when she heard that. She knew that Melody's Christmasses were terrible compared to her friends, but Melody knew nothing better.

"I'm just going to go and talk to Rev. Stancliffe a moment, then we'll go home, alright?" Cassidy said, straightening up.

"Okay!! I'll go and talk with the others for a bit."

Rev. Stancliffe had seen Cassidy coming, and greeted her with a warm smile.

"Hello Cassidy. I hear you got a lecture on Christingles?"

"Yeah. I didn't have a clue before that."

"Your Melody is a clever little mouse, isn't she?"

"Not sure about a mouse, but she's smart, yes."

"It's because she thinks a lot, I think. She asks a lot of questions in our R.E. lessons."

"I hope she's not a nuisance!"

"Not at all- Its lovely to see a child taking an interest in what they believe in. Does she take Christianity from home, or has she discovered it at school?"

"Oh, I'm not religious."

"Really? From her father, then?"

"It's just me and her. I have no family, and he left us as soon as he heard I was pregnant. It's just her and me."

"I'm sorry to hear that!!"

"Isn't everyone?"

"No, Cassidy, I mean it. Does she talk about it at home?"

"Sometimes. As I said, I'm not a believer, so I tend to zone out a little."

"Do listen to her. We learn a lot from children. Now then, will we see you here later?"

"Yes, and tomorrow. Melody insists."

"Good for her!! It's not that bad, really. As a child, I went to a church full of ninety year olds. You've got a good age range here, so don't dread it too much."

"I won't..."

"And if it's all a bit much, we're all here at the church. And lots of people will say that, but we do genuinely care."

"Why?!"

"Because you're a child of God, just like us. And no-one should be alone at Christmas."

Melody approached her mother, and so they said their goodbyes. And when they returned that afternoon, Cassidy didn't find it as bad as she'd thought she would. And by Christmas morning, she almost felt as if there might be something out there. Something, or someone, watching over them, and keeping them from danger.