Christmas Eve Day in the Village

Marz drove down from Duluth last night. Cars were flashing her on the highway, and she realized her tail lights were out! This morning she's off to the mechanics. Luckily they're open until noon this Christmas Eve Day and, surprisingly, not busy. 

Marz is getting a crash course in car ownership--a couple days ago she got her first flat tire!
I was telling my coworkers about this over lunch, and everyone had a lot to say--including Big Boss, who recommended Marz get Triple A roadside service. There's this village attitude--a pull-together/swap information attitude toward cars that I, never having owned a car, have missed out on.

Winter Village (below) is full--little red candles ready to be lit before dinner--and across the room, the Magi are making their way. There's still a toy creche to set up too, if there's time.

"The village needs everybody," said the Metaphysical Cowboy on youtube. "You have to have all kinds of different people. That's why communes fail--they attract too many of the same, like-minded people. Don't feel bad if you act like an idiot--the village needs you!"

That's one of the things I LOVE about the thrift store--it's a village of everybody. Like a spider web, the tension of lots of different lines holds it together. I'm so grateful I was gone for 8 months this year. I could re-set and re-approach with fresh eyes. I haven't bothered to blog about them, but all the old annoyances are still in place. I'm not as bothered. I see the store as sort of an organic animal---shambolic, for sure, but weirdly self-sustaining. Let it be.

While most of the staff are pretty poor (although some, like me, didn't grow up that way), there's a mix of well-off volunteers in the mix. The store always gives a paltry Christmas bonus--last year, I got $50. This Monday, I got a check for an unheard of $200, even though I'd been gone 2/3rds of the year. Others got a lot more. An accompanying letter said that an anonymous donor had given a gift so everyone could get a big bonus.

I immediately thought of the volunteer, a retired doctor, who'd attended the young man dying of a gunshot in the parking lot this summer. I'd blogged about how she'd replied to my text thanking her for being there for him:
"I really did nothing, could do nothing but hold some space for his soul to leave his body, and to witness the results of the violence many live with every day."

She and I have discussed the store in depth, in the past. She thinks the staff is treated atrociously, especially financially.
I texted her saying the donation was the sort of thing she would do.
She texted back, "It takes a village."

Yesterday as I was getting ready to leave (early) after lunch, coworkers still in the break room were discussing a recurring topic--what awful punishments should be meted out to people who hurt children. Medieval villagers could be no more inventive.
I say nothing.

But as I was about to leave, I said, "I'm leaving for Christmas now, let's have a happy moment. Let's sing a song!"
And one of my newer coworkers, Ms Linens, leapt up, came over to me, and started to do simple line-dance moves I could follow. We sang a few lines of "Happy Holidays" while the others laughed and applauded.
I left in a happy mood thinking, I am in the right place.
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It's a good gray day here for recreating Bruegel's "Hunters in the Snow"--so that's what's on today. It's cold though, so it will have to be fast.
Then around 4 pm, I will start cooking the Moroccan fish for Christmas Eve dinner here, for bink & Maura, a couple other old friends, and Marz and me.

I hope you all are enjoying these holidays--and if not, that they pass quickly for you!