A Time of Christmas
Marta, being the earliest riser of the Von Trapp household now, woke up to the first rays of sun shining off the very new covering of white over everything outside her window. Opening her eyes and seeing how brightly the sun was coming in, she smiled because that meant the heavy clouds that had covered the sky all yesterday were gone.
Quietly, she got out of bed so as not to wake up Gretl and went to the window. The sight she saw both surprised her and brought a huge smile to her face. Yes, the sky was clear, a crisp blue, and the sun was fully risen. But there was also a beautiful, thick covering of white over everything outside, as well.
Excited to the core, Marta rushed to Gretl's bed and shook her sister awake enthusiastically, "Gretl, Gretl, wake up, wake up!"
Gretl gave a whine and covered her eyes. "Whaaaaat?"
"Snow everywhere!"
The magic word had been said; Gretl was immediately wide awake.
"Snow," along with "Christmas," "summer" and "birthday," was one of the few magic words that could get any one of the children out of bed, no matter the hour, completely awake and ready to enjoy that word. Both Marta and Gretl were soon running to their brothers' room and older sisters' room, in their thick nightgowns without slippers, to impart the magic word. Frederich and Louisa, especially, were the fastest to get out of their nightclothes and get their winter things on: Liesl had to persuade Louisa to dress properly as opposed to just throwing her coat on over her nightgown.
The last place Marta went to on her mission to wake the family was her parents' rooms. She hurried through the living room but suddenly paused at the bedroom door. If she woke up her parents the way she did her siblings, her father especially might get cross. So, Marta cautiously opened the bedroom door and quietly went inside.
Her parents were fast asleep, and it looked like they were having good dreams. Her father was hugging her mother from behind in the bed, and they looked quite cozy.
For a moment, Marta wanted to turn away and leave them be, but then she remembered her siblings who were all getting ready to go outside. Mother and Father would not like it if they started anything without them. So, Marta tiptoed up to her mother's side of the bed, and gently patted her shoulder with a whispered, "Mother?"
Maria's eyes opened slowly, and focused on Marta as sleep left her. "What is it, sweetheart?" she asked quietly, her voice thick.
"Mother, the first snow has fallen, and it's a lot. Everyone is wanting to play outside."
Hearing this news, Maria's eyes opened fully and a smile appeared on her face. She loved the first snowfall as much as any child.
"All right, tell your siblings that no one is going outside until everyone is dressed and have had breakfast. The snow isn't going anywhere yet."
Marta nodded, gave her mother's nose a kiss, and rushed out of the room.
Aware that Georg was still asleep, Maria carefully and slowly turned around in his arms to take a look at him. In all of the days they had shared a bed, he had always woken up before her, being a naturally early riser. But he was still sleeping, which surprised her, for they hadn't read for very late last night. So this was the first opportunity she had ever seen him asleep, and so close to her too. It was a wonderful sight, with him so at peace. Maria took a few moments to memorize his peaceful, sleeping features. Like when he smiled and laughed, he looked younger when he slept.
Finally, when she felt they really should get up to keep the children from going crazy with excitement, Maria reached out and touched his cheek as she murmured, "Georg, wake up."
Georg gave a smile in response to her touch, but kept his eyes closed.
Maria smiled, too. "Come on, Georg, we have to get up. The first snow has fallen and the children are itching to get outside."
Georg sighed and opened his eyes. "All right, I suppose we must," he said. His arm, which was already draped over her, pulled her closer and hugged her. Maria, who hugged him back, asked what was wrong when she felt how tightly he was holding her. "I had a discomforting dream last night," he murmured into her shoulder.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, rubbing his back.
"Not yet," he said, pulling away to look at her. "But soon. Let's get up."
"Is everybody ready?" called Maria from one sled, Gretl bundled in her lap. Looking at Georg, with Marta bundled in front of him on the other sled, he saw him wink and smile wickedly. She took that as a yes.
"On the count of three!" called Liesl, the referee, holding up her gloved fingers. "Three…two…one…GO!"
Both Brigitta and Kurt gave one of the sleds a push down the relatively gentle hill, which they chose for the sake of the little ones for their first sleigh ride. The sleighs began their descent down the hills, all four passengers letting out delighted exclamations and "wheeeeeeee's!" Both sleds took off down the hill, each parent holding tight to their little one. The exhilaration of the cold air rushing past you, the feeling of flying, the adrenaline rush…it was a wonderful feeling for all of them.
It was a close call, but according to Louisa and Frederich, it was Georg and Marta who arrived at the bottom of the hill first, but just barely. Georg and Marta hugged and cheered, and Maria smiled for them. Marta had been scared of sledding, and it had taken quite a bit of gentle persuasion for her to give it a try.
"See, wasn't that fun, Marta?" asked Georg, smiling at the seven-year-old.
Marta nodded enthusiastically. "Lots of fun! Thanks for going with me."
Gretl felt just as exhilarated as Marta, and didn't even care that they had lost the race. "Oh, Mother, that was so much fun! Let's do it again! Let's do it again!"
After they had, the family moved to a steeper hill, perfect for more experienced and daring sled racers. Frederich and Louisa were itching to go, especially Frederich with his favorite birthday present. Again, Liesl gave the go-ahead, and the two competitive siblings raced down the hill, yelling in exhilaration all the way down. Their siblings cheered them on, and so did their parents, watching and hoping they wouldn't crash or fall off.
But they didn't: both made it to the bottom safe and sound, and Frederich won. Everyone cheered, and Louisa looked quite annoyed that she had lost, until she caught her father's eye and hurriedly changed her expression to that of graceful defeat rather than sore loser.
Watching them race, Maria suddenly felt the urge to go fast. "I'm doing that, too!" she declared.
"Can I too, Mother?" asked Gretl eagerly.
"Absolutely not!" said Georg very firmly. "When you're as big as Louisa, then yes." He turned his glance to his wife, and it turned mischievous. "I, however, am big enough. Race you to the bottom?"
Maria smiled just as wickedly back. "You're on, Captain."
In a minute, both were on a sled all ready to begin. The children were very excited to see their parents race as if they were children too. As Liesl counted down, both of them gave each other competitive looks, and they were off once Liesl shouted "GO!"
The steeper hill felt even more exciting than the gentler one. Both felt extremely excited and a lot younger. But, near the bottom, Georg's sled suddenly wobbled, and Georg went flying with a "woah!", rolling down the rest of the hill and skidding to a halt and the bottom. He didn't move.
Maria felt her heart go as cold as the winter air, and immediately got off his sled as soon as it was slow enough to get off. She rushed to him while the other children exclaimed from the top of the hill in worry. "Georg!" she cried, running as fast as she could towards his motionless body. She'd never felt so scared. Please let him be all right, oh God please…
Maria collapsed to her knees when she got to him, turning him over and becoming even more terrified to see his closed eyes and motionless face. "Georg? Georg?" Maria shook him a little. "Wake up! Be all right! You are not allowed to be hurt right now! Please don't be hurt, please, I can't take that…" Her voice had lowered to a frightened winter, her gloved hands caressing his head, looking for a possible injury.
Then, she saw a smile appear on his face, his eyes still closed. Her hands froze as something hotter filled her system. "Georg?" she breathed.
"That was very nice to hear, Fraulein, I must say," said Georg, still smiling and opening his eyes. He was perfectly fine.
But Maria didn't find the joke funny. She leaned back, her eyes ablaze. "You're all right?" she shrieked.
Before she could see Georg's reaction to her outburst, Maria got up and began walking up the steep hill, yelling to the children that they're father was just fine.
For the rest of the day, Maria ignored Georg, furious with him. She excused herself early, claiming exhaustion (which wasn't completely false), leaving Georg alone to put the children to bed. Once in the empty bedroom, Maria changed to her thick winter nightgown and got into bed, curling into a fetal position on her side of the bed, staring out the window in the dark.
When Georg came into the bedroom sometime later, Maria remained still with her eyes closed, listening to him change in the bathroom. She was still angry with him, so she just pretended to be asleep. Part of her wished he would not hold her, as he had been since his birthday, but the other part of her wished for it (she didn't know if that part of her was the most stupid or the wisest).
Eventually, he came back into the dark bedroom and crawled into bed. Sure enough, he slowly scooted closer to her and spooned her, his body warm and strong. Maria felt her body and heart purr, despite her anger, but she kept her eyes closed.
His fingers stroked her cheek. "Maria, are you awake?" he whispered.
Maria realized it would be useless to ignore him, so she just gave a quiet, "Mm-hm," without opening her eyes or moving.
His fingers continued to stroke her cheek. "I'm sorry, Maria. I really did not mean to fall off the sled, that was an accident. But I should have reassured you from the start that I was not hurt. I truly apologize for deceiving you."
Her eyes finally opened, but she didn't turn around. "You did more than that: you scared me. Did you really feel you needed to do that to know I would care if you were hurt or not?" Her tone reflected her own hurt.
Georg's hand left her cheek and gripped her shoulder. "I will never make that mistake again."
A moment of silence, then Maria turned, facing him, their bodies lying side by side close together. A hunch suddenly came to her. "Did what you did have anything to do with the bad dream you had that you have yet to tell me about?"
In the moonlight, she could see the outline of Georg's face. His eyes closed for a moment before he sat up in bed. Maria sat up, too, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've heard about the Anschluss, right?" he finally spoke.
Maria sighed and nodded. "It's inevitable, isn't it?"
Georg too sighed sadly, and covered the hand she had placed on his shoulder with his own. "Every day, I read more in the papers and I hear from people that it's drawing nearer and nearer. Last night I dreamt of being in battle at sea again…It makes me sick to watch the country I fought and sacrificed so much for is succumbing to the whims of a madman."
Maria had a feeling it was that. Every time she had seen him with a newspaper, or when he would come back after talking to a friend on the phone, his eyes would look quite stormy indeed. Georg was nothing if not a true Austrian, and as one herself, she could feel his pain. But what does this have to do with what he did with the sled today?
Maria voiced the question to him, and he turned his head to look at her. It was a few moments before he spoke again, and Maria felt as if he was searching in her soul for the answer to something. Eventually, he said, "I don't know…I suppose it just stems from me still being in a state of unbelievable shock that you care about me, and that you forgave me and let me into your life." Georg took her hand from his shoulder and held it to his face. "Please forgive me, Maria?"
The young woman had a feeling that there was something that Georg was not telling her, but he was being honest and she was tired. So she caressed his face and nodded. "Just please don't do something like that again. It wasn't only me who was scared for a moment."
Georg looked down like a reprimanded child and nodded. They sunk back down onto the bed, and Maria let Georg hold her closer to him than usual that night.
Advent had always been Maria's favorite time of year in the Christian calendar, apart from Easter. Both seasons had an amazing feeling of hope and anticipation. For Advent, it was the month of getting ready for the birthday of Christ. Each Sunday of Advent, the Von Trapp family would go to church at the Church of St. Joseph, with Father Norbert leading the service. They always arrived early so they could watch Father Norbert light a new candle on the Advent wreath, and each evening the Von Trapps would like that candle on the wreath they had made for their home.
The wreath was a large circlet of weaving pine branches, with four candles sticking up from the wreath itself, three violet and one rose, and a white candle in the center. Father Norbert would explain what each candle meant as he lit one each Sunday.
"The first violet candle," he said patiently as he lit the first candle, "is called the Prophecy Candle. This candle is lit in remembrance of the prophets, in particular Isaiah, for it was through them that God the Father first told His people about His Son whom He would have born onto this earth. This was the beginning of the preparation of the Lord." This made the readings of Isaiah and Luke at mass that much more poignant to the family.
"The second violet candle," he said the next week as he lit the second candle, "is called fondly the Bethlehem candle. It represents the manger the baby boy was laid in by his mother Mary, and, more than anything, this candle represents Love, in all its forms during the Advent and Christmas season." He smiled to himself. "Perhaps my favorite example to think of during this time in Advent is to think of St. Joseph himself. Do you know, children, that the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem that he and Mary took was over one hundred miles?"
The children all shook their head with wide eyes. "And they had to walk the whole way?" asked Kurt in awe.
"Mm-hm," said Father Norbert, nodding. "It was a very difficult journey through the desert. But they did have a donkey, which was very fortunate. For Mary was heavy with child, with Jesus almost ready to be born. It would not have been good for her to walk that far, so she rode on the donkey. Joseph never complained, and walked the whole way, protecting Mary and the baby from harm the whole hundred miles. And at night, when they rested, Mary would give him water and wash his feet, much like her Son would wash his disciples' feet thirty-three years later.
"Their love helped make way for Christ." It was no coincidence that Father Norbert shot subtle looks at Georg and Maria during this profound story.
The third Sunday of Advent made Marta smile. "Why is this candle pink, Father?" she asked, watching as Father Norbert lit the one and only rose-colored candle.
Father Norbert smiled at her and answered, "Because this candle, the Shepherds' candle, represents joy. For when Gabriel told the shepherds about Christ's birth, the first words he said were, 'Rejoice! Rejoice!' So of course the happiest candle would be the happiest color, right?"
Marta gave a great big smile and nodded. That night, Georg helped her light the pink candle of their own Advent wreath.
The fourth Sunday of Advent was a day of quiet but happy anticipation. Father Norbert lit the final violet candle with a peaceful expression on his face; very fitting. "This is called the Angels' Candle, the candle of peace. This is a candle of reassurance. For, even when Joseph was knocking on every door in Bethlehem for a place to stay, and Mary's labor had begun, the angels heard her prayer for the Lord to provide for them, and they were given a stable for shelter. In the presence of the gentle animals, watched by God and the angels, Christ was born into this world."
The mother watched her children with pride and love each Sunday, as they learned that there was more to Christmas than just getting presents and playing in the snow.
Maria could not sleep. She was too happy.
The last few days, or rather weeks, had been nothing but blissfully happy, much more so than she had ever experienced. Knowing where she wanted to go, Maria slowly and quietly slipped out of Georg's sleeping arms and the bed. On the way out of their rooms, Maria grabbed an extra blanket and wrapped it around herself. One would think she was a tall child if they watched her sneak down the stairs and towards the softly glowing golden lights coming from the big drawing room.
She walked through the open door, entranced by the golden lights of the huge Christmas tree. Finding great joy and peace in the sight, along with the sounds of the dying, crackling fire, Maria bundled herself up on a corner of the couch. Of course she felt tired, but Maria didn't want to sleep yet. She wanted to remember all of the wonderful memories she had gathered over this most joyous Christmas…
It was wonderful to see her brother arrive four days ago, fresh from his exams which he had passed at the top of his class. The whole family had been there to greet him at the train station, and Maria was the first to embrace him.
Dominik had not been to the villa before, and Maria felt this new sense of pride as she, Georg and the children had showed Dominik their home, her home. Dominik saw her happiness and shared in it whole-heartedly. He especially became fond of the grand piano, and he and Georg grew closer by discussing their favorite pieces and composers. He had even begun to give Liesl some lessons, just as Maria had given Liesl basic guitar lessons months ago. And just like with Liesl, he bonded with the other children quickly and strongly, joining in the winter games outside.
Christmas Eve had been quiet but happy. The family had gone to evening mass, and watched the white center candle be lit, which they then lit at home.
"This one is called the Christ Candle," Maria had murmured, lighting it. "It is white because white is pure, clean and bright, just like the Christ Child, and his love for all mankind."
That Christmas Eve evening, the family sat around the Christmas tree and sang carols. Maria didn't know which moment had been more special: when she, Marta, Kurt, then the Captain had each sang a verse of "Do You Hear What I Hear?"; or when she and Georg had sung "Silent Night," each playing guitar. It had been enough to bring the children up to bed and put them to sleep. As the seven of them slept, the mother and father had brought the presents out from their hiding places and stuffed the stockings. Dominik had offered to help, but Maria had insisted he sleep, since he was a guest.
This day, Christmas Day, had been the best Christmas Maria could remember in a very long time, from the moment the little ones had run into the room waking her and Georg up, to her quiet moment in front of the tree right now.
The ten of them had spent the whole morning in this room around the tree, having a picnic brunch inside and opening gifts. The family then spent the afternoon making the big Christmas dinner, since the staff had all gone to see their own families for the holidays. With seven children, it was a rather exciting and messy affair, but the results were quite delicious. Maria could not remember a more merry meal. But the most heartwarming sight for her was looking across to the other end of the table at her husband, who had never looked so proud, contented, and happy. She caught his eyes and they had shared a smile. Tired and contentedly full, the children were able to fall asleep extremely easily with smiles on their faces.
But, for Maria, the best moment had come when she had received her gifts. Dominik had given her a new, beautifully embroidered guitar strap, which she had attached right away. Max and Philemona had sent her a new gown to wear to the upcoming New Years' Ball. But the most touching gifts had come from Georg and the children.
Just as Maria had opened them to the traditions of Advent, Georg and the children had welcomed her back into traditions she had lost when her parents had died. She'd been given her own stocking: green velvet on the back, and the embroidering of her name and an angel in blue on the front – this was from the children, and it was filled with little goodies they had gotten for her. From Georg, she'd been given a beautiful ornament: a wreath of edelweiss made of precious china and glass, placed prominently on the tree. And from Georg and the children both, Maria's breath had been taken away when Georg lifted the cloth covering it: a beautifully crafted nativity scene, with a darkwood manger and china figures of Mary, Joseph, the baby Jesus, shepherds, the three wise men, and the little drummer boy. Simple yet beautiful.
Maria had never been so touched in all of her life. All she could say was, as happy tears streamed down her face, "Oh...it's wonderful!"
Georg woke up to feeling nothing in his arms, and immediately sat up wondering where Maria had gone. Finding the bathroom empty, he put on his robe and immediately went in search of her. No lights came from Dominik's or the children's rooms, so he thought she must be downstairs. As he descended the stairs, Georg heard his angel's voice singing, so he followed it to the Christmas tree. Though Georg had heard this carol many times, he'd never realized just how powerful and profound the lyrics were until he heard his angel sing them:
Oh, holy night,
The stars are brightly shining.
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth.
Long lay the world
In sin and error pining
'Til He appeared, and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope,
The weary world rejoices,
While yonder breaks
A new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees.
Oh, hear the angel voices!
Oh, night divine!
Oh night, when Christ was born…
Oh night…oh holy night…oh night divine…
By the time she had finished singing, Georg had come into the room and seen her cuddled on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. She didn't seem surprised by his presence, and gladly leaned against him when he joined her on the sofa and wrapped his arms around her.
"Your voice is so lovely," he murmured into her hair.
"You're too complimenting," she murmured back, her full exhaustion catching up with her.
"Oh, no," he said, holding her tighter. "If I'm completely honest, I mean you have the voice of an angel."
She chuckled, too tired and too happy to object. After a moment, she spoke in a wistful voice. "I don't remember much of my first Christmases, but I do remember we had a tree. Not as big as that one, but I used to love sitting in front of it with mother and father. They would have to carry me up to bed because I would fall asleep in front of it often. You had no idea how excited I was when you and the boys brought in this tree. The whole decorating process was so much fun, too. The Christmas tree was something I've missed a lot, and I didn't realize it until I got it back again."
She turned her head to look at him, their noses almost touching. Her eyes were full, sparkling, radiant. "I'm so happy, Georg."
Oh, how he wanted to kiss her properly then and there. Her happiness was all he had ever wanted from the beginning of his awakening for her, and he'd succeeded. His love for her rang loudly in his heart at the sight of her happy eyes, but he stayed quiet. And instead of kissing her lips, he kissed her between the eyes. When she closed them again and rested her head on his shoulder, he kissed each closed eyelid.
Before carrying her back upstairs to their bedroom, he softly whispered, "I love you," into her sweet golden hair. She didn't stir from her sleep but dreamed on peacefully, not having heard it at all. Georg didn't mind for now, but prayed he might someday find the courage to tell her when her eyes were open, even if she never said those words back to him.
For now, both didn't worry about what they didn't have but what they did have, which was so much; they were so blessed.
It had been the best Christmas either of them had ever had.
