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On these winter mornings I come downstairs before seven to turn on the heat, having already washed and dressed in the frigid upstairs. Besides the main furnace I also light the gas heater in the living room.
The house is dark and cold, dark even after I turn on the kitchen light. In the centre of the coffee table in the living room is our little German heat-propelled merry-go-round, a gift from a friend several Christmases ago. It's a Christmas decoration, though its figures aren't explicitly about Christmas. Some of these wooden candle-powered objects have crèche scenes, with baby Jesus lying in a manger surrounded by Mary and Joseph and a few sheep. Mine has a standing lady as the focal point, and the other figures on the platform look like the seven dwarves dressed as hooded monks, plus some rudimentary sheep. The lady is situated so that when the platform turns she moves backward while the dwarfs and sheep go forward toward her.
But none of this is important. What counts is the light. It is candle-power that turns the fan at the top that makes the figures go around. There are four niches for votive candles, though it takes more than four to activate our fan, probably because the house is so cold (don't ask me about the physics of this). So we use two extra non-votive candles, making six points of light (and heat) on the coffee table, plus, on the piano across the room, a tall candle and a votive candle in a little angel holder.
Dark house. Living room lit by the little fireplace plus six plus two candles. Dim light from the street gives the alcove a bit of shape.
I sit on my straight chair, cold as blue blazes, wrapped in an afghan, and I close my eyes knowing that any time I open them I will see the propeller turning, the candles burning, the tall virgin whirling ever backward pursued by tiny hooded figures.
Although every year I eagerly await the return of the light as our days lengthen, this year, having found a way to bring warmth and light to this early-morning time, I'm in no hurry. The dark can still be overcome by a few candles.
Musings blog: http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com
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