Attending Divine Liturgy on the feast of St. Andrew — what a life-giving way for me to start the day. It was a long and busy day that had me driving back and forth and all over, which is why I am only now getting to the computer to tell about it, now that we are, liturgically, in the following day.

It was a chilly morning, in the middle of the week; the little church was cold in its bones and for the first half hour I stood so close I was almost touching the wall furnace. Who would come on such a morning for a relatively unimportant commemoration? The rector came, of course, with joy. The choir director led a choir of four singers, including a nun from the monastery in the next county.

Two men named Andrew and Andrei were there, because it is their saint’s day, and who would want to miss that? One mother of an Andrew came to remember her son’s saint.

Saint Andrew, the first of the men whom Christ called to be His disciples, eventually became the patron saint of Scotland, and Mrs. Anderson came in her tartan plaid skirt to remember that aspect. She also pointed out to me that her married name means Andrew’s Son.

I myself like to participate for the sake of the Scottish ancestors that both my late husband and I have; not only that, but two of my grandsons were born on this day, and that makes it special to me. Six or eight more people were present who weren’t obviously tied to this specific feast, but I’m sure all of us were happy to receive the Eucharist and be united to Christ in that way.

Mrs. Anderson had yet another reason to be there: She was very close to a very dear parishioner named Constantine, who died on this day more than ten years ago, and every time we celebrate the feast of the Resurrection with Divine Liturgy on November 30, we also sing memorial prayers for him. She made a small portion of the memorial dish of boiled wheat, called koliva, for us to eat together in his memory at the end of the service. You can’t see the wheat in this picture because she topped it with lots of dried fruit and fresh pomegranate seeds. It did make a good breakfast.

By then, the church was warmed up, but we could not linger as long as we might have liked. Out we went into the sunny day, and to all of our responsibilities. One of mine was going to the dentist, and I’m glad to get that out of the way. Afterward, I had the fun of shopping for special ingredients — and more butter– for baking Christmas cookies. The boys at the checkout stand got to talking about how they used to put out cookies for Santa. And here it isn’t even December yet! Although it likely will be before you read this.

So I wish you a December that is peaceful and bright.
(And don’t eat too many cookies before Christmas!)