The Advent Calendar

by Steven Croft

  ‘What’s that got to do with the pictures in the calendar?’ asked Alice.

  ‘When I was small, I was very good at remembering things,’ said Grandad. ‘They used to give a prize to the person who could learn Scripture verses by heart. Some of those verses have rattled around inside my head all these years, just odd words and phrases. Lately, I’ve been trying to bring them back into my mind with, you know, hospital and that.’

  Alice squeezed his hand.

  ‘The thing is,’ said Grandad. ‘I don’t know what they have to do with Christmas – but some of those pictures remind me of those old Bible verses. I think there’s more to this calendar than meets the eye.’ He tapped his nose and winked. Alice smiled.

  ‘Mark my words. The answer’s in the Book.’

  Before she could ask any more questions, Megs ordered Alice upstairs to get ready for church.

  ***********

  Sam and Josie were planning on going to the Carol Service with Megs and Alice.

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be alright, Mum?’ said Megs for the sixth time since tea. ‘I can stay at home with you and Dad, if you like.’

  ‘You go, love,’ said Grandma – also for the sixth time. ‘It’s been a busy day. We’re not used to so many people around.’

  Sam was putting his coat on when there was a familiar sound. ‘Message!’ sang the phone.

  ‘I didn’t know you’d changed your ring tone,’ said Megs. ‘Is that the code for the calendar?’

  ‘How exciting,’ said Grandma. ‘Put it in before you go to church, Sam. Let’s see one of these doors open. It’s just like magic. Honestly, the things they can do these days.’

  ‘Suffering swordfish, look at the time,’ said Sam moving towards the door. ‘We’ll be late for church.’

  ‘Brenda said they were expecting a lot of people,’ said Alice, shifting from foot to foot. ‘We want to make sure we get a seat.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ said Grandad. ‘It’s a church not a cinema. There’s always seats in a church.’

  ‘Go on, Sam,’ said Josie. ‘I’ve never seen how this thing works either.’

  ‘Nor have I,’ said Megs. ‘I’ve never been around when you punch in the code.’

  ‘But...’ Alice began.

  ‘Just get on with it!’ said Megs. ‘Or we will be late.’

  Sam nodded at Alice and opened the text. Alice could see the faint outline of the new door in the remaining space. A dark brown garden gate. You could hardly see it against the wood of the calendar.

  Sam read out the numbers: ‘Five, five...’

  ‘At least it’s not Col,’ Alice thought as she punched in the numbers. ‘I can’t imagine what the coloured smoke would do to Grandad.’ Push. Click.

  ‘Colon...’

  ‘On the other hand it would be fun to take the whole family on an adventure.’ Click.

  ‘One, one.’

  ‘Perhaps Caspar will be at the door with a minibus.’ Push. Click.

  Sam and Alice tensed themselves for something strange to begin to happen. The others all peered at the calendar.

  ‘I’m sure those numbers mean something,’ said Grandad.

  ‘There’s nothing happening, love,’ said Grandma, disappointed.

  ‘It – er – sometimes it takes a while to open,’ said Sam, relaxing just a little.

  ‘Well, it really is time to go,’ said Megs. ‘We don’t want to arrive halfway through the service.’

  Alice ran to the front door and opened it slowly. No sign of any strange vehicles in the street.

  ‘Mum, I think I might have tummy ache. Can I stay at home and Sam can look after me?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Alice. You’re the one who wanted to go to church. Out of the house. Now!’

  Sam and Josie walked two steps behind. Alice kept looking round all the way to St Philip’s. ‘What’s going on?’ she mouthed to Sam.

  Sam shrugged his shoulders – then grinned inanely at Josie.

  ‘Alice is acting a bit strange,’ she said. ‘Wonder why?’

  ‘Probably because she’s expecting a cloud of blue smoke or a helicopter to appear any moment,’ thought Sam to himself. ‘Girls,’ he said aloud. ‘Honestly!’

  Josie elbowed him in the ribs just as they turned into the church entrance. There were crowds of people all making their way inside at the last minute which meant there was a queue at the door. Brenda was giving out the hymn books.

  ‘Hi, Alice! Great to see you. Thanks for your help the other day.’

  ‘Hi Brenda. You met Sam, my uncle. This is Josie. They’d like to get married here soon.’

  ‘Not so fast, Alice,’ said Sam. ‘We were just wondering, you know.’

  ‘Give the vicar a call after Christmas,’ said Brenda. ‘He’s a bit tied up just now.’

  ‘Sure – course,’ said Sam, poking Alice hard as they squeezed into a pew near the front.

  The church was full and lit only by candles in all the window spaces with very dim overhead lighting so people could read their carol sheets. People were mostly in family groups though some looked as though they were on their own. The organ music stopped for a moment and the vicar invited everyone to stand from the back of the church.

  The first carol was one Alice knew: ‘Once in Royal David’s City’. She turned round during the first verse and gasped. Caspar was standing two rows behind her singing in a deep bass voice. He was dressed in a dinner jacket and bow tie with a warm winter overcoat and bowed towards her.

  Alice nudged Sam. ‘Look behind.’ Sam turned, nodded to Caspar, then looked to the right and to the left. Sure enough Bal and Mel were there too, dressed to match. Two rows behind them was Mr Gabriel, for the first time without his bowler hat. He seemed to be enjoying the singing but winked in their direction.

  ‘Stick out a bit, don’t they?’ Sam whispered in the lull after verse four.

  There was a reading next, then another carol, then readings and carols alternating in a pattern. Alice enjoyed the whole thing. Church was even better when it was full. Just before the final verse, the vicar stood up to make an announcement.

  ‘We are very fortunate to have three guests with us from an international choir visiting London: the Bethlehem singers. They have kindly offered to sing solo parts in our final hymn.’

  Alice looked around. Sure enough, Caspar, Mel and Bal were moving out to the front of the church.

  ‘That’s why they’re wearing dinner jackets,’ whispered Sam.

  ‘That means a change to our final carol from “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”,’ said the vicar. ‘We don’t normally sing Number 25 until just after Christmas, but I am sure we can make an exception for our guests. Would the congregation please stand and join in the chorus of “We Three Kings”.’

  The organ played the familiar tune. Caspar, Mel and Bal launched into the song in a harmony which soared and filled the church. The power of the words lifted the congregation and drew from them the best music of the evening.

  ‘O Star of wonder, star of night,

  Star with royal beauty bright,

  Westward leading, still proceeding,

  Guide us to thy Perfect Light.’

  Each of the soloists offered one verse with unusual passion. Each produced gifts as they sang and set them on the altar. Then all three came together in a new harmonic arrangement for the final cry of praise, filling the church and singing:

  ‘Glorious now behold Him arise;

  King and God and Sacrifice;

  Alleluia, Alleluia,

  Earth to heav’n replies.’

  ‘You were fantastic,’ Alice said to Caspar over a mince pie after the service.

  ‘Very well done,’ said the vicar coming up to shake the three guests warmly by the hand.
‘We’ve never had as many people in church for a Carol Service. You really lifted us at the end. What passion!’

  ‘Any chance you can stay back and help sort things out for a bit, Alice?’ asked Brenda. ‘There’s a lot to get ready for the Christmas Eve midnight service.’

  ‘Allow us to help, ma’am,’ said Mel.

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Brenda. ‘There is a lot to do.’

  ‘We need to get back,’ said Megs, coming over with Josie, ‘but you stay on with Sam if you like, Alice.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum. We won’t be too long.’

  Mel and Bal started with the washing up. Sam and Alice collected the service sheets and stacked them at the back.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Brenda. ‘The vicar’s gone home to put his feet up. That’s his tenth Carol Service this week but I could tell he enjoyed it the most. I just need to pop home and get some more wine. We don’t like to keep too much in the vestry these days. Will you be alright here?’

  ‘No problems,’ said Sam.

  ‘Bolt the door behind me and I’ll knock three times,’ said Brenda. ‘Thanks.’

  As soon as Brenda had gone Bal and Mel dried their hands and put their jackets and coats on. ‘This way,’ said Caspar, leading them down to the front of the church. Just to the right of the main altar was a small side chapel. They stopped and bowed before a small bronze statue. Alice gasped. It was Mary as they had seen her on the first day, full of life, and with a child in her arms.

  ‘This way,’ said Mel. ‘Bal will stay here in the church.’

  He led them past the bronze statue to the very far corner of the building and pulled back an old tapestry. There was a strange old door set in the wall. Bal lifted the latch and pulled it open.

  Alice blinked and screwed up her eyes. Bright sunlight streamed into the church.

  ‘Come through,’ said Caspar, leading the way.

  Sam stepped through over the threshold and Alice followed. They looked around and breathed in the warm spring air of early morning. Alice felt uncomfortable already in her winter coat. She took it off and left it on the ground by the doorway.

  The four of them were standing at one end of an enormous field. The earth had recently been ploughed and had deep furrows ready for sowing. The field’s boundary was marked by a dry stone wall. Beyond it was another and then another as far as the eye could see.

  ‘Welcome,’ said Mary, who had been sitting on a low bench beside the door next to a gate into the field. Mel and Caspar bowed low. Sam and Alice followed their example now.

  Mary was as they had first seen her: young and full of passion and yet at the same time old and full of wisdom.

  ‘This is the last time we will speak together in this way,’ Mary said. ‘Tomorrow is the calendar’s last day when we shall meet but there will be no time for conversation. Today you must walk with me. Take these.’

  Mary handed them both a large, heavy canvas satchel on a strap. Alice and Sam put them over their shoulder and saw that Mary had one also.

  ‘What is it?’ said Sam.

  ‘Seed,’ said Mary. ‘Good seed to sow in the earth. Watch and follow.’

  They set off around the edge of the field. As they walked, Mary took great handfuls of seed and flung them out onto the earth. Sam and Alice followed, doing as she did. There was no breeze and the seed hung in the air before it settled onto the soil.

  Together they worked their way across the ploughed field. It was hard work. Alice found the soil stuck to her shoes and, after a while, her arms ached from the throwing. Yet it was also a solemn and exciting experience, not knowing what would grow.

  ‘What are we sowing?’ called Sam, as they drew near to the end of the field and their bags grew lighter.

  ‘All kinds of good things,’ said Mary. ‘But now you must see what happens to what is sown.’

  She led them back across the centre of the field to begin their walk again from the place where they had started to sow.

  Out across the field, Alice now saw green shoots beginning to appear through the soil. ‘What you will see takes many of your months,’ said Mary, ‘but watch and learn.’

  Around the edges of the field and in the places where they had walked, nothing grew. Sam looked more closely. ‘Birds,’ he said. ‘The seed has been eaten.’

  Alice walked over to the left side of the meadow where the seed was growing quickly, shooting upwards. Then, as she watched, it began to wither and die.

  ‘No root,’ said Mary, bending down and picking up a large rock. ‘The ground here is full of stones. There will be no harvest here.’

  Sam ran ahead of them. There was boggy ground up ahead. The plants were shooting up here as well, but growing alongside and tangled in among them were weeds and thorns.

  ‘Worries, cares, pleasures,’ said Mary. ‘They start well but the life is choked out of them. No harvest here either.’

  As Sam looked at the thorns entangling the young plants, Alice had run ahead again to the middle of the field, where all kinds of good things were growing. There was corn and wheat, poppies and flowers of every kind, vegetables, fruit bushes which would yield berries, oats and barley, rice and millet all side by side.

  ‘Look at how much is growing!’ she exclaimed. ‘Look how it grows from the tiny seed!’

  ‘Look, indeed,’ said Mary. ‘And remember. And think. And see if you can understand.’

  By now they had walked the full circuit of the field and come back to the door where Caspar and Bal were waiting. Mary embraced them both.

  ‘You have now travelled almost the whole journey through the calendar,’ she said. ‘The seed of life has been sown.’ She turned back towards the field and pointed to the different places they had walked together.

  ‘Make sure nothing snatches away the seed.’ She tapped Sam on the forehead.

  ‘Make sure that there is depth for the seed to take root and grow.’ She tapped Alice on the chest.

  ‘Make sure that the seed is not choked by worries, cares and pleasures.’ She took them both by the hand and turned to face the centre of the field.

  ‘Let there be good fruit. Go well.’

  One by one, they stepped over the threshold and were back in the quiet chapel at the side of the church. The lights were on but even so the building felt cold and gloomy after the spring sunshine. Mel was sweeping the broad central aisle. There were three loud knocks on the door.

  ‘Sorry to be so long, my dears,’ said Brenda. ‘Thanks so much for waiting. It looks so clean. I’ll be fine now if you want to carry on.’

  ‘Goodnight, Brenda,’ said Alice, looking back down the church, ready now for the services on Christmas Eve.

  The three companions walked them home.

  ‘Will we see you tomorrow?’ said Sam.

  ‘You may see us, but there may not be time for conversation,’ said Caspar with a smile. ‘Travel well. Tomorrow is the last door but also the greatest. Be ready and stay in the house.’

  Everyone was in the front room when they arrived – even Andrew.

  ‘Hi!’ said Sam.

  ‘What happened to the calendar?’ said Alice. ‘Did anything appear?’

  ‘I never thought to look,’ said Grandma. ‘Let me get my glasses. Well, I never did.’

  ‘There’s more to this than meets the eye,’ said Grandad.

  ‘How do they do it?’ said Josie.

  Alice and Sam looked and saw what they expected: an open door, a tiny snapshot of a field ploughed and ready for sowing. Tiny dots on the wind: seeds of life falling into good soil.

  24 December

  Alice was up early on Christmas Eve. The excitement of the last part of the journey twisted and danced inside her. As far as she was concerned, there was only one thing that mattered today. She never wanted the adventur
e of the calendar to end. Yet she also wanted, more than anything, to reach that final door, the one that had been visible all the way through, the very large one right in the centre.

  At five minutes to eight, she crept into the front room. Sam was still asleep. Alice looked at him with new respect. The change in Sam over the last few weeks had been remarkable. Even Megs said so. But he still snored like a train. Alice didn’t wake him just yet – though she would never have dreamt of not sharing this last adventure with him. She wanted a few moments by herself before it began. She felt sure the message would arrive in the early morning – the only time the house would be still and they would be alone with the calendar.

  Alice squatted in the corner of the room, enjoying the darkness. The Christmas tree was in the corner. She could smell it and see its shape outlined against the light that spilled in at the window whenever a car came round the corner. It cast long pointed shadows on the chimney breast. At the base of the tree were the gifts: a pile that grew larger by the day. Last year on Christmas Eve, Alice got into the most terrible trouble for trying to peel off the wrapping paper. She half-grinned to herself as she remembered how preoccupied she had been in years gone by with the coloured paper and the strange boxes. It was true – this year she’d hardly given the presents a thought. At least three new large parcels had arrived since she went to bed last night.

  Over on the opposite wall, of course, was the calendar. Doors one to twenty-three were open. The minute candle in the first door still shone as brightly as before giving enough light to see what was in each tiny space. Alice looked at them one more time, remembering the different conversations and adventures. The tiny dove. The wild animals sharing a common home. A loaf of bread, the glass of wine from the great feast. The man dancing after being brought back to life. The broken chains. The tiny, bubbling stream of water. The peacock.

  Alice looked at her watch one more time. It was almost eight o’clock. She shook Sam.

  ‘Whassup?’ Sam rubbed his eyes. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘It’s eight o’clock. It’s the final day. We need the code before anyone else is awake. There will be people here all day. Let’s go.’