Saint Lucia Christmas Procession

 

Seeking refuge from a difficult world, I find the extraordinary beautiful Saint Lucia procession is like being uplifted to an ethereal cloud of song and beauty.

Saint Lucia day is a very popular Christmas celebration in Sweden, recreated  by the Swedish church of Paris and by Swedish students  here.

The approaching Christmas season carries  enmeshed grief for me so I like to strive for havens of spiritual light and whatever joy within reach.

Cité Universitaire is where the students had their candlelight procession and celebration recently that was open to the public.

The story of Saint Lucia is a very sad one, like many of the martyred saints.  She was born in Sicily in 283 and because she refused to renounce her Christian belief and virginity, was sentenced to die by bonfire, after other morbid attempts to kill her failed.

She is said to have been blinded by having her eyes gouged out, yet she always sought to expand the light  of Christ and goodness in her heart.

Legend has it that she lived through being stabbed, and that even the logs never took fire, but  she only succumbed after receiving final rites.

She is seen as having overcome darkness with her faith filled light.

Eventually Lucia replaced a pagan tradition that coincided with the Winter Solstice, believed in the past to occur on December 13, which remains her feast day today.

Her birthplace of Ortigia, a tiny parcel of an island south of Syracuse, retains its striking medieval character with  a labyrinth of  narrow pathways and has a church named after her.

I found this island, visited last year,  to have some mysterious underground rivers and a freshwater well right next to the sea, where the only papyrus in Europe can be grown!  I published a post on my travels there in May, 2017.

Saint Lucia, the patron saint, is so beloved there too that they have another large celebration in May honoring Saint Lucia from saving the city from famine.

Cité Universitaire is an absolutely huge international campus of individual  buildings and houses, that each have a unique  architectural design  representative of  various countries. They are used to house foreign university students who are studying in Paris.

It isn’t too far from my place and makes for an easy walk.  After dinner and wine,  I am not usually motivated in winter to walk in the cold drizzly nights that seem to run on forever till spring, but I was really motivated to witness the celebration again.

This night was no exception, where the sidewalks are all slick with rain and decaying brown leaves that can be very slippery under your feet.  Actually that night, the droplets blowing across my face  felt even mildly refreshing as I made my way towards the main entrance hall of the whole campus, seen in the photo.

The Maison International is a central point of gathering , that was inspired and funded by John D. Rockefeller Jr, as in photo above.

The entire hall was filled with people of all ages in the dim light, gathering around four tables to enjoy traditional food and drink.  Some of the Swedish students were busy dipping ladles into huge silver bowls of steaming glogg , freely offering cups to the many out reached hands.

Glogg is what the Swedes call vin chaud, which is slightly sweetened hot red wine flavoured with cinnamon, gloves and cardamom, and sometimes orange.  The little cup felt good warming my chilled hand, before I brought it to my lips.

The wine was a tad sweet for my taste, but I liked the smell and taste of the spices. Tins were filled with the  crisp pepparkakor or gingersnaps, the popular cookie, that one immediately associates with Sweden and Christmas.

The two were generously handed out for free, except the Safransbullen, or saffron buns.  S-shaped buns, with dark raisins are said to look like curled up cats!.  These golden coloured buns flavoured with saffron, looked homemade and were selling for a euro.

Suddenly the hall became even more dim, and then I started to hear the sweetest of voices singing in the distance. Looking up along the second floor balustrade, I caught a glance of a young woman chosen as Lucia, dressed in a white gown with red sash and wearing a crown of glowing real candlelight.

A chorus of similarly dressed young women followed with white gowned men wearing tall cone shaped hats adorned with golden stars.

They stopped above the main railing and although I didn’t understand a word of the songs except the repetition of Santa Lucia, the Swedish songs carried an ethereal and sweet energy of innocence.

Saint Lucia songs are known by heart to all Swedes, and I can see why, as I was soon humming along with them. Translated first two stanzas are:

The night treads heavily around yards and dwellings. In places unreached by sun, the shadows brood.

Into our dark houses she comes, bearing light candles.  Saint Lucia,  Saint Lucia.

I felt rather mesmerized by the whole sight watching the flickering flames glowing atop her head while singing and  maintaining perfect balance of the crown.

Walking carefully, Lucia led the procession down the stars and slowly passed the crowd until her light disappeared from view.

I hoped her pretty blond hair did not catch any drips of hot wax, which my candles, lit nightly,  sometimes do.  After another cup of glôgg  and a few more gingersnap cookies, I felt fortified enough to tackle to wet cold air.

As I was walking home, I even found myself quietly singing over and over Saint Lucia in the same melody that it was sung.  The drone of the ever present traffic and tinkling bells of the trams were louder thereby keeping my voice to myself.

I somehow felt lighter  and noticed a blossoming spirit of Christmas overtaking my mood.

The evening that falls too soon in the days leading up to Christmas, calls for illuminating not only with candles to disperse the darkness but bringing more Light into our hearts.

Saint Lucia, may your faith and light lead us all into the Christmas spirit with the innocence of a child.