Cool's blog

January 14, 2005

Happy New Year

Weilheim, Deutschland

Saturday evening Doug, mom and I were walking through the streets of Weilheim when we decided to duck into the local church to examine the architecture and warm our toesies. Alas the atmosphere was anything but warm. Upon entering the building we noticed a group of parishioners seated in the dark. In dour monotone they took turns chanting. First the right side would say:

Unser Vater in dem Himmel!

Then the left followed with:

Dein Name werde geheiligt.

In turn they spoke each line until the following was complete.

Dein Reich komme.
Dein Wille geschehe auf Erden wie in Himmel.
Unser tglich Brot gib uns heute.
Und vergi uns unsere Schulden,
wie wir unsern Schuldigern vergeben.
Und fhre uns nicht in Versuchung,
Sondern erlse uns von dem bel.
Denn dein ist das Reich und die Kraft
und die Herrlichkeit in Ewigkeit. Amen.

After that they began anew reciting the prayer over and over drearily enunciating each syllable in a celebration of joy akin to a five-hour wait at the bureau of motor vehicles.

Stunned, perplexed, and oddly frightened, we tiptoed back out the door as quickly and quietly as possible in the hope that they'd not try to subdue us into their nightmare.

As we walked across the town square listening to the laughter of children and parents hurrying home for dinner, we relaxed and enjoyed our return to normalcy. We were so busy chatting about the experience that we didn't notice Saint Nikolaus's sleigh pull up until he was right on top of us.

Saint Nick, sleigh driver, and Knecht Ruprecht

Looking down at us, he opened his notebook and shook his head. With a disappointed look in his eye, he roared, "Sie sind ein heidnisches."

Naturally I heard this as "Sie sind Heidi nichts." And was wondering why Saint Nick would both say that I'm not Heidi and why he would be so
disturbed about it. Was my name in question or was it my very existence.
Was he implying a complete lack of Heidiness?

I didn't have long to ponder for as soon as the great red saint had finished his pronouncement, his companion, Knecht Ruprecht, jumped off the sleigh, and shoved us all into a rather musty smelling sack. Picking us up as though we were a mere sack of potatoes he tossed us into the sleigh and then rode into the night towards Munchen.

As our fear subsided, I came again to wonder about what he'd said. "Doug,"
I asked. "Why did he say I wasn't Heidi? It says I am right here on my passport. Why did he stuff us in the sack? If I change my name to Greta will he let us out?"

"No, your name doesn't matter. He didn't say you aren't Heidi. He said we're heathens. He must have seen us sneaking out of church and now we're being punished."

"What will he do?"

"If we're lucky he'll leave us in the forest. If we're not he'll take us back to his cabin and beat us with switches."

Suddenly the sleigh careened around a corner and we in our sack went flying off. Seconds after hitting the ground we started rolling down an incline not stopping until we hit the icy waters of the Isar. Panicking we kicked at the sack trying to escape before drowning, but the sack was too strong and we too uncoordinated.

With the saints against us we were seconds from drowning when just as suddenly a hand reached in and scooped us from the water. The sack was cut open and soon we were looking up into the eyes of our savior, a tall creature clad in chains with two enormous horns sticking out from his head. Without a word he led us to his car then drove us back to our hotel.
Thanking him as we left I asked, "Why did you save us?" With a glint in his eye, he laughed and said sometimes we heathens just have to stick together.
Copyright © 2004 Heidi A. Cool