Page 11 - EGO Magazine December 2019
P. 11

local // lleol                                                            local // lleol







 The Church



 Step A Short                              gesture of a middle finger.  singing had caught my attention

                                             ‘Ah love and peace to you too ‘,   and I was curious. It was then that I
 Story By Tony                             I muttered. I realised then that I   recognised her,
                                                                        ‘Mrs Tassinnari, I’m so sorry for
                                           sounded like Ringo Starr.
                                                                    startling you’
                                             I eventually managed to find
                                           somewhere to park without having   ‘Oh, let me catch my breath’. She
 Burgess                                   to pay. A tight spot right outside   said. Then still clutching her chest
                                           the old and now sadly closed
                                                                    she continued,
                                           Catholic church. I couldn’t help but   ‘You must think I’m a crazy  old
                                           notice someone had put flowers   woman singing there on those cold
                                           and lit candles on the step right   church steps , but this Church has
                                           infront of the door.     so many memories for me , its walls
                                             It started to snow as I walked   hold the voices of all my family, and
                                           back to the car clutching my frozen   when I sing to them I hear them, I
 y Christmas   from its ominous bruise colour,   puff pastry and redcurrant jelly. I   see them , I want to be with them.’
 Eve afternoon   it was cold enough for snow. As I   stood and watched the snowflakes   Mrs Tassinnari wept softly.
 plans of   listened further to the Carol service   as they danced around the street   ‘Here let me walk you home, you
 sitting Infront   my thoughts were consumed as to   lights, they appeared unsure where   only live down the road, don’t you?’
 of the log   what gifts would I bring to a Baby   to land. I wondered how many   I said,
 Mfire, reading   Jesus now, today. I just couldn’t get   children would be squealing with   ‘Do you know I still remember
 and breaking open the tin of Roses,   past the obvious modern electronic   excitement as they watched this   that first ever frothy coffee your
 washed down with something festive  choices and think of something far   scene through their windows.   husband Enzo made for me in
 were thrown into disarray, as a   more reaching and philosophical.  Children, Christmas and Snow the   your cafe, from that huge brightly
 stream of swear words emanating              Fortunately, I arrived in   perfect Trinity I thought, then I   polished coffee machine, and
 from the heavenly-scented kitchen   town at this point so I gratefully   heard singing, was it carol singing?   he introduced me to egg and
 reached my ears. Five minutes later   mentally filed that conundrum.   It was faint but got slightly louder   Mortadella rolls. My doctor would
 I was in the car heading for town. A   I would perhaps ask family and   as I approached the church. It was a  have liked to have had a word with
 missing packet of puff pastry and a   friends over one of the Christmas   frail female voice.  him’.
 jar of redcurrant Jelly were the cause  meals for their suggestions.  I      On the Church step,   Mrs Tassinnari laughed and
 of such kitchen angst. I switched he   drove slowly down the main street,   illuminated by the candlelight,   spoke eagerly and brightly about
 radio on and Carols from Kings had   I hadn’t noticed before just how   appeared to be a large bundle of   the café and her husband Enzo as
 just started. The thought of going   pretty the councils Christmas street   black clothes. The singing stopped;   we walked slowly to her home.
 into town on Christmas Eve made   lights were this year, even the shop   the bundle of clothes moved   Mrs Tassinnari’s arm was cold
 me shudder, all those last-minute   windows looked festive and enticing   slowly, then unsteadily stood up.   and felt as light as a little bird as
 present buyers scurrying about,   and the large Norway spruce was   The bundle of clothes transformed   she held on to mine.
 the traffic would be head to tail in   decorated particularly effectively   into an elderly woman dressed   What are you doing for
 the town centre as everyone tried   with hundreds of miniature dazzling   completely in black, she crossed   Christmas Mrs Tassinnari?
 to park almost inside the shops.   white L.E.D. lights. I must have   herself then turned. She startled   ‘Oh, Christmas means nothing
 Quick in and out I said to myself,   unintentionally  slowed down even   when she saw me and exclaimed   for me now, its just like any other
 I turned up the volume and sung   more  to look and admire  this scene   “Madonna Mia”, and raised her   day but longer.’ replied Mrs
 along gustily to the carols. First to,   as I was suddenly startled by a driver   arms to her chest as if in shock. I   Tassinnari.
 Once in Royal St David’ City, then   behind me blaring his horn and   rushed to the step as I thought she   Mrs Tassinari took some
 good old Ding Dong merrily on high,   flashing his lights, I pulled over and   might fall, I gently held her arm and  persuading, but ten minutes later I
 surprisingly the words came flowing   shrugged at him apologetically , in   apologised profusely for frightening  was on the phone to my wife telling
 back. The sky had been overcast and   return ,as he passed he gave me the   her.  her to expect a special guest for
 dark all day, it had never brightened   universally recognisable unseasonal   I tried to explain that her lovely   Christmas.




 10.        The EGO®                                                         The EGO®        11.
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