Stanziliëri

There is a small village in the hills of a warm country, approximately 2 months cycling form here. Over there lived, not even that long ago, a young woman who had fallen in love with a carpenter.

Your kisses are sweeter and sweeter and sweeter than honey
And I find you more beautiful and sweeter and like you better and even better than the king
We lie down together a while from here
We make a roof from leafs and twigs, we call it our home
I want you so badly now or never sleep together
Because we are only here today...

...

He was the sea
He was the sand
He took her gently by the hand
And as eagles fly
The sky is watching
The sky is watching
Dark is the dune under the moon
They will be together forever

There in the evening tide
He kissed his loving bride
As eagles fly in the starry sky
The dune grows dark

He said come home with me
And he lead her back into the sea
As eagles fly
The stars are watching
The stars are watching

Dark is the dune under the moon
They will be together forever
Dark is the dune under the moon
They will be together forever

One night the carpenter woke up to go and have a pee.
But when he returned and wanted to crawl back into his nice warm bed, there was an angel standing in his bedroom. A real angel. Like you sometimes see in books with fairy tales, on the windows of a church, or in a science fiction movie. With wings of see-through fabric. And the angel said "In a little while your girlfriend will get a child, and you will call him 'Son of God'. And the carpenter was very happy but also a bit scared, because an angel in the bedroom doesn't happen every day. And when he got his nerve back after the surprise he asked "How do you know that, madam.... mister.... angel? About the baby?" And the angel replied "I know that from God. He told me that." Back then, except for a very few people, almost everybody believed in one single God who had created everything. The trees, the mountains, the sun, the ocean, the rain, the animals, the people, the church bells, and the snowflakes. Snowflakes.... maybe Gods most noticeable invention.

God is the tree that stands in the forest
God is the rock that waits for the water
God is the cloud that travels through the sky
God is the tear
the smile
the sigh.
That's God for one
And for someone else God sits on a pure golden throne
A man in the heavens surrounded by riches
Ages old.
God is so much
for everybody someone else
For Aly
For Sarah
For Peter
To me God is simply a song

When the angel was gone, the carpenter was standing speechless in his bedroom. Happy and surprised. He tought "If that's what God wants, then I will, if we get a baby, call him 'Son of God'. But what if it's a a girl?"

I'll make a bed of logs.
From logs I will make a bed.
A bed to dream in.
From logs I will make bed.
From Ash, Beech and Oak
I'll make a bed.
From Ash, Beech and Oak
I'll make a bed.

Sweetest love my angel
I make for our son
sweetest love my angel
I make for our son
a bed.

We make the sheets
of soft cloth.
And sweetest one
while we're busy
I will kiss you.

One day the carpenter heard from the lady next door that all the population was going to be counted. Everybody was supposed to go immediately to the city they were born in. They wanted to count everybody in the country. Just because. To be sure.
This meant that they, the carpenter and his pregnant wife, also had to hit the road, because they had been born somewhere else. That place was a walk of many days from there.

My dear
It's not going to work.
Look at my belly.
The way home is way too long.
Our baby can't be born on the streets instead of our warm bed, your bed, made of logs.

Loving wife
It will be fine.
Even with your belly.
The way home is not that long.
I'm not that afraid that our baby will be born in the open air instead of a warm bed, our bed of logs.

But then we will have to leave
leave today.

They walked for a whole week through hills, valleys, forests and the desert, back to the place they were born. The wife was sitting on an ass, and the husband walked next to her.

The road is so long
And she's quite afraid now
in this cold wind.
Snow pricks in her eyes
and freezes her hands.
And oh dear God
her child...
How long is the road?
How far must they go?
The cramps in her belly...
If it lasts any longer
any any longer
then the baby will be....

After a long and tiring journey the man and his wife arrived more dead than alive in the city. They started the search for a place to sleep at an Inn. But everything was fully booked. There was nowhere to sleep. They started to panic, but then suddenly someone said he had a little place they could use. Even though it was just a little stable.

Come in, there's plenty of space
even though it's just a little shed.
Because everywhere there are people just like you.
There's space among the hay
even if it's just on the floor
but there are people like you everywhere.
Guests...

When the baby is born
put it in the crib
because this night things go different than usual
Mister, Madam, sleep tight...

I am waiting for you my love my love my love

And during that cold night, among an ass and an ox, their child was born. In a crib with straw. And right above the shed was a bright star bouncing his light off the clouds. Either by chance, or not...

...

God is a mystery someone said
God wants to teach us something, said someone else.
God punishes us for our sins, according to one person.
And everybody said something else.
But most people believed, as usual, that it'd be OK eventually.

There is no country on earth where they fight as much as in God's chosen land. And I think that's because everybody finds something else in his words. For example, when Jesus Christ says 'forgive your enemies' then he doesn't say that in favor of our enemies, but in favor of ourself. And because love is so far more beautiful than hate. That's really not that hard to understand, is it?

Anyway, at Christmas we celebrate the birth of Jesus, and maybe God's son. Or a carpenter's. And a girl's. A child birth. And that remains a miracle...

Have a very blessed Christmas everybody.

(The above text is a small and translated part of Herman van Veen's CD 'Er was eens...' ('Once upon a time...'). If you want to hear all of it, including the missing parts of the story and all the songs, go buy the album. I'm afraid it's all in Dutch, though. He tells the Christmas story in a most wonderful and different way that's still so very familiar. It gives me comfort on this lonely Christmas night.)