A Braestone Christmas Carol
We’re sitting in the office on a winter’s evening. Ruby snores at our feet, while outside snowflakes gently weave a blanket upon the hills of Braestone.
We’re having a drink - Old Fashioned for Sue and a whisky for me. She reads her Kindle and I thumb a tattered copy of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.
I get up and walk to the front of the house. From our front porch, with the flickering lanterns our community could be mistaken for a movie set… perhaps an English village from another time.
We go for a stroll through the streets, across the farm, and on the trails of Braestone. A one-hour walk becomes double or more as we visit with charming characters along the way.
Folks share stories of Christmas preparations, comings and goings, and last-minute excursions for missing ingredients. Sue remarks that we are insulated from the chaos of the outside world in this Brasetone snow globe of ours – protected by both the setting and by the kindness of neighbours.
But I’m a little distracted. You see, A Christmas Carol is stuck in my head. I’m a sucker for the story – in its many versions and adaptations in print, on screen, or on stage – and on our walk each person we meet becomes a gentle Bob Cratchit or an adorable Tiny Tim.
Not a single Ebenezer.
And I recall past Scrooge performances: There’s Bill Murray, Scrooge McDuck… Michael Caine alongside Kermit... Even The Fonz starred in a version filmed in Elora, Ontario. My personal favourite is, of course, Alistair Sim.
Their performances are memorable because of the transformations: A most despicable curmudgeon – void of love, grace, or the ability to see others – is transformed into a giggling, sensitive, selfless man - the very definition of Christmas warmth and generosity.
It’s the ghosts that are the drivers of this transformation – 3 visits – from the Past, the Present and Christmas to come. They are bridges between this world and the next – between our automatic, unthinking routines and deeper reflection.
Strolling across the Braestone landscape and reflecting upon 2024, it’s the Ghost of Christmas Present that I find most compelling. You will recall, he is the huge, jolly ghost surrounded by an abundant feast. “Come in and know me better, man!” he exclaims.
“Come in and know me better, man!”
And his call is clearly a challenge for our troubled times. How do we find ways to better know our fellow man? Driven by addictive technologies, frayed connections, and tribal identities, it feels like we have never less known let alone loved our neighbour.
Before leaving Scrooge, the Ghost of Christmas Present reveals two feral children hiding under his cloak. He calls them Ignorance and Want – his sharpest warning to Ebenezer.
Ignorance & Want – seem to have new relevance these days.
Preparing our abundant Braestone Christmas feast – with waves of loved ones coming and going – I think about what hides beneath our comfortable, warm cloaks…
Dickens’ message is simple enough – and that’s what makes it so powerful. He wants us to study and see clearly the Ebenezer within. This is the storyline that moves me every time because I’ve had Scroogian thoughts - self-absorbed and self-pitying. I reflect upon where I am on a journey of transormation.
Because stories of transformation can reinforce our faith – and as Sue, Ruby, and I return home from our promenade - I am filled with new hope that we might find ways to pass on the treasures of the past and to share the pearls of our personal transformations.
As Tiny Tim said, “God bless us, every one!”
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