The First Christmas - Part 2

If you haven't read part 1, you can find it here.

The Big Day

Whump!

Julia woke with a start as two small arms wrapped themselves around her neck.

“Wake up Mummy! It is Christmas!” Junilla hissed loudly in what she imagined was a whisper.

“What time is it?” a half-asleep Gaius asked from the other side of the bed.

“We are all up and Mack is up and is cooking.”

“We” likely being her and her two brothers, and Mack being one of the household slaves.  Mack got up every morning at dawn to bake bread, which suggested that the sun was already up.

“Aren’t you up yet?” came a much older voice from the doorway.  Flavia was also up. “If you don’t get a move on, we will be late for church.  Put on an extra layer or two, it is cold out today.”

A short while later, Gaius and Julia emerged from their room both dressed for a cool but festive day.  The three children were sitting at a table in the courtyard eating breakfast, supervised by Mara, another of the household slaves and nanny to the children.

The family had just finished breakfast when they heard the noise outside of the herald calling and clapping his sticks to let everyone it was time for church.  With some hustle the family got ready to leave the house.

“Is Mack coming?” Secondus enquired after noticing an absence.  The slaves were part of the family and were expected attended church most weeks.

“No, he must carry on with the preparations for the feast.  He will also be here to let the family in if they get here before we get home from church.” Explained Gaius, knowing that   Mack was happier staying at home in the kitchen.

They met several groups of friends on the way down the hill to the church, all headed in the same direction.  Now they could hear the trumpet playing outside the church to alert those nearby that the service was about to start.  They entered the building and moved to stand in their normal spot, although the children pushed to the front so that they could see better.

Father Ambrose looked out across the congregation and smiled at the many eager faces.

“We will start with the Angel’s Hymn, which is known to many of you.” He announced.  The Angels Hymn was an old song written to mark that Nativity two hundred years earlier.  It was still popular.

The congregation sung accompanied by a lyre that could barely be heard above the voices and a drum to keep rhythm.

After the song, Father Ambrose took out his Gospel codex and hurriedly read the nativity stories from the books of Matthew and Luke.  He knew that few of the children fidgeting at his feet understood the Greek he was reading and the rest of the congregation had little more knowledge of the language. After the reading, Father Ambrose then re-told the stories in Latin and reminded the congregation of the meaning behind the stories.

“Now, I have something special for you.” Father Ambrose announced. “At the request of the blessed Bishop Mark, the notable Hilary of Poitiers in Gaul has written a new hymn for this new celebration based on the words of the poet Prudentius.  I instructed the deacons to practice the song and they will lead you in it now.”

The deacons sang words that would endure through the centuries.*

 

Jesus Light of All the Nations,

Merciful Redeemer

Let every race of believers

Sing and Celebrate

 

A Star,

Shining in the heavens

Announces his birth

and led the Magi to his Crib

 

They adore a little child

Wrapped with swaddling clothes

They acknowledge the true God

By giving a mystic gift

 

Father Ambrose ended the service with a blessing.

“I like that new song.” said Junilla, who proceeded to hum the tune as they left the building.

“It is not bad.” Flavia begrudgingly agreed.

The walk home took slightly longer that the walk to church as it was up hill and they were in no rush.  The group had grown from the immediate household to include one of Julia’s sisters and family.  The weather had turned even cooler while they were inside church and now some indistinct fluffy white clouds were gathering over the city.

Primus reached the front door first.  He pushed it open to reveal noisy chatter.

“Come now Mack, you must let me have a cup.  You must do as you’re are told, slave.”  The distinct voice of Uncle Flavius rose about the general murmurs.  It sounded like he had already had a least one cup.

“I am not your slave.” was the sullen response, which silenced the room.

Gaius pushed past Primus to stop trouble brewing.  He quickly caught Mack’s eye and nodded, giving permission to break out the wine.  Mack hmphed and headed to the storeroom to find the wine.  Flavius turned and saw that the remainder of the family had arrived.

“You should thrash him.” Flavius told Gaius, who chose to ignore the comment, knowing that there was no point trying to explain to Flavius that he preferred to treat his slaves well.

The atrium in the centre of the house was full of people with children running around the pool in the middle of the room and groups of men and women chattering.  The floor was warm from the hypocaust but there was a chill in the air, so everyone was moving around to keep warm.

Julia went to check on the dining room.  Seeing all the family gathered together, she was worried about how they would all fit, even though she and Mack had worked it all out the day before.  It would be a tight squeeze while they said grace and broke bread together before the main meal.  After that, Mara and one of her sister’s slaves, who also served as a nanny, would take the children to another room for their own feast which would give the adults a little more space.

After check the dining room, Julia was reassured and returned to the atrium.  There were several baskets and parcels lined up along one wall; gifts waiting to be given.  The children were all surreptitiously looking the pile.

Junilla sidled up and asked in one of her very loud whispers “Mummy, can we do gifts?”

The other children heard and turned pleading eyes to Julia or their parents.

“Let’s exchange gifts.” Gaius, as father of the house took control, knowing that there would no peace from the children until gifts were handed out.

A short time later, after much chaos and noise, one of the slaves gathered wrappings and one or two already broken toys, cleaning up the atrium for when the family had finished their Christmas dinner.

***************

Flavius was the first to leave the dining room after the Christmas feast.  He wove a crocked path across the clear and empty atrium, headed for the smallest room, which was next to the kitchen, as it was in most of Rome’s houses.

“I must check on Mack.” Julia used as an excuse to escape the dining room next.

“I need some fresh air.”  Flavia emerged next and started the flood of people leaving the room.

Titus soon found himself all alone with everyone being too rude or too drunk to listen to him explain the background to why they were now celebrating Christmas instead of various other mid-winter festivals. He couldn’t understand why no one wanted to discuss this fascinating subject. Sighing, he got up and vacated the dining room.

Flavius, having relieved himself, staggered back into the now noisy atrium.  He sat on the edge of the rain water pool in the centre of the room under the opening in the ceiling.  Relaxing, he leant back just a bit too far.

Splash!

He fell back into the cold water with a scream.

Conversations stopped and everyone turned to look at the spluttering man.

“Quick, get him out.” Someone yelled from the back of the room.

“Blankets.” Julia yelled in the direction of one of the slaves who was waiting for such commands in a corner.

Gaius and Titus pulled the sodden and struggling Flavius from the pool, getting rather wet themselves.

Wet clothing was quickly removed and the three men were wrapped in towels and blankets by Julia and the slave.

“Ooh look! What is the white stuff falling through the roof?  Did Uncle Flavius make the sky fall?” cried an excited Secondus.

All of the children rushed over to the pool and looked up at the white flakes falling through the gap in the roof into the pool.  Concerned mothers and nannies followed.

“It hasn’t snowed in years.” Someone commented.

“It has in fact been twelve years.” Titus launched into a lecture on the history of snow falls in Rome that could not be heard over the excited yells of children.

“Is it snowing outside too?” Primus asked before he ran to the front door.

Outside, the street was full of people looking up at the sky or admiring the dusting of white that was fast covering every surface.

“It is cold and wet.” complained Junilla as she reached up for the comfort of her mother’s arms.

“Perhaps we had better head home before it sets in.” said one of Julia’s sisters.

Behind the thick clouds, the sun was sinking low in the sky and the light was dimming.  Parents gathered children and belongings, and goodbyes were said.

Back in the house, Gaius and Titus had changed into fresh warm clothes.

“We put Flavius in the spare room to sleep off the wine.” Gaius explained.  “Titus will stay over to keep an eye on him.”

 

“I enjoyed today. It was better than the old festivals with the snow.  I think we should do Christmas again next year.” said Flavia.

“It might not snow next year.” explained Titus.

“Maybe not, but there is always hope.”

 

*Click here to listen to Jesus refulsit omnium, the Hymn written by St Hilare sometime in the 4^th Century AD.  The translation in the story is thanks to a combination of Google translate, a copyrighted translation that I didn’t want to copy directly and an old English version.