Today I’m grateful that the other
day I found Glühwein at World Market, and I bought a bottle.
It might seem a little petty
to be giving thanks for something like that, but Glühwein to me means
Christkindlmärkte—Christmas markets in Germany.
Walking around among stalls
of ornaments, confections, toys and all manner of beguiling wares, in weather
so cold you think your toes have turned to chunks of ice.
Parents and children, who
aren’t quite sure what to make of it all. The air awash with Christmas music
live or piped.
And the stalls that sell Glühwein,
mit oder ohne Schnapps. I’m a fourth-generation
Californian, so I don’t really do cold. Ergo I occasionally had my Glühwein mit Schnapps. And I am here to tell you
that it’s one of the finer things civilization has to offer on a freezing
December evening.
I’ve been to the markets in
Köln, Dresden, Augsburg, Nürnberg, München and Berchtesgaden. Köln had at least
three major markets and Nürenberg’s was a fairy land. Even in Dresden—which I
visited barely ten years after the fall of Communism and was still half-buried
in socialist-modernist concrete block buildings—the market made you forget your
depressing surroundings, and at night you couldn’t seem them at all.
Here’s one of my shining
memories, from the fair at Augsburg. I came across this young lad manning the
stall, which as you can see is stacked with boxes of blown glass ornaments. He
saw me squirreling with my camera, and by the time I got it up to take the
shot, he’d put the Santa hat on. Just for me.
Every sip of hot Glühwein brings
back all those memories. And I’m grateful to have had those experiences, to
have been able to go to those markets. And I hope to go to more.
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