Laterne, Laterne

Ich gehe mit meiner Laterne und meine Laterne mit mir... I go with my lantern and my lantern with me

-German folksong

We're entering the dark time of year. The newspapers report zero hours of sunshine. When it does appear through the clouds, the sun makes a low arc in the sky, at its zenith it's strength is that of a California sunrise. Throughout the day, the light is low, flat, and gray. By 4:30 in the evening, all is black. People scurry about in the cold, from one building to another, in search of warmth, friendship, light.

No surprise that the Germans have a holiday to bring in some cheer in what must be the dreariest month. Called "Laterne", or St. Martin's Day, it is a celebration of light and warmth, specifically the warmth that comes from the human heart. A time to remember how kindness can comfort even the most weathered soul.

The story goes that St. Martin was riding on a horse and saw a homeless man freezing in the snowstorm. Martin cut his coat in half so the man wouldn't die. That night, he dreamed that Jesus appeared wearing the torn coat that had been given away, and that Jesus spoke to the angels, saying "Here is Martin, the unbaptized Roman solider."

Giving away a coat might not be a big deal in warm California, but trust me. Here in cold cold Germany, that half a coat is a charitable act that means a lot.

Today, children celebrate St. Martin's day by making lanterns and going on a parade. We went to two celebrations: one sponsored by the local Opel car dealership (over 500 people!), and the other a family-friendly one by the neighborhood Martin Luther Church. Sophie made a lantern, complete with candle. We donned out thick ski parkas, hats and gloves, and met up with others at the church.

First, there was the bonfire. Large and bright, it cackled warmth. Kids gathered around and adults added more logs. Warmth and heat. A priest dressed as St. Martin appeared, and told the old stories about the holiday. We sang songs. Sophie was hungry, so we ate some Weinerwurst (sausage) and I drank Gluhwein, a hot spiced wine, yet another source of warmth. Then the band appeared, and it was time for the parade. The first song was "When the Saints Go Marching In", and we sang with gusto.

We marched around the rather big block, the band playing St. Martin's Day songs, kids dashing here and there or riding on their father's shoulders, mothers chatting with friends. Families, grandparents, and lots of seniors gathered at their windows to take in the celebration. The parade brought warmth to their homes.

Sometimes the most precious fire is the kindness of the human heart. The simple hello, a song, the friend who listens when you share a story. A coat in the snowstorm. Thank you, St. Martin.