Cornucopia

19. Christmastime

Karim Benammar

A parable in the Cornucopian spirit for Christmas

Christmastime

These were the dark midwinter days in Everland, but cheerfulness was all around. Colourful lights were hung in the streets and strung around houses and trees. Music and singing voices rang in the chilly air, which was fragrant with cinnamon and chocolate. Shop windows looked especially dazzling, bedecked with garlands and presents. Excited children dragged their parents across this snowy landscape.

As was the custom, Everlanders celebrated several rituals at once. These were the shortest days of the year, when a festival to the Light was held. An old pagan custom of running around a decorated tree was honoured. A fairy-tale about a reindeer herder from up North who broke into houses through chimneys to leave presents was re-enacted. A small group of believers had a ritual involving nine candles. Another group commemorated the birth of their saviour by displaying a rural nativity scene. They called these days Christmas, and the name had stuck.

Everlanders celebrated Christmas by coming together, whether they were Growers, Makers, Keepers, or just plain folk. In the ancient days of Everland there had been no distinctions between people. Everyone lived on a plot of land, but some were especially lucky that their plot was fertile and yielded fatter sheep. They gradually expanded by buying up other, less productive pastures, and hired help to cultivate them. Now a few dozen Grower families had come to hold all the land, and they lived on magnificent estates on the outskirts of town. 

In olden times, everyone made their own goods, but these were often rudimentary and required a lot of labour. Then a small group of especially lucky Everlanders discovered a gooey dark substance in their wells, which they bemoaned at first, but which turned out to have magical effects. Though it was dirty and had a foul smell, it allowed for goods to be made at an amazingly rapid rate, making them much better and also much more affordable. Within a few generations, Maker families had divvied up the production of everything that people needed into a few conglomerates. They lived in enormous townhouses, and employed whole retinues of plain folk to do their cooking, groundskeeping, and nannying.

In days of yore, Everlanders had agreed amongst themselves what belonged to whom, and how to trade wares. Then a number of especially lucky Everlanders found a shiny metal that so entranced everyone that they agreed it would be a great idea to melt it into bars and store them safely. The Keepers who undertook that task soon came to see themselves as the sole adjudicators of value and trade, and before long they ran the administration of everyone’s accounts. Their name came to refer not only to their work in keeping the precious metal safe, but also to the increasing share that they kept for themselves for this service. Keepers lived in strikingly designed flats, were always traveling, and spent most of their time staring at screens.

Everlanders celebrated Christmas Eve together by sharing a sumptuous meal and doling out presents to all the children, with Growers, Makers, and Keepers paying for everything. After the meal, the Growers returned to their estates and the Makers to their townhouses for lavish festivities, lasting for days. The Keepers travelled to exotic locales to celebrate in the snow or underwater. They all felt happy at their good fortune, and proud of their generosity. The plain folk returned to their little brick houses, and decided whether they could afford to put another log on the fire. They felt happy to be together, but also, truth be told, a little sad when they compared themselves to their neighbours. 

As long as anyone could remember, a sorcerer had been living deep in the forest outside of town. People whispered that he was a scary, wild-eyed man, prone to incoherent rambling. Frightful sounds and lighting bolts kept most at a distance, but some impetuous young Everlanders had ventured into the forest and fallen under his spell, never to be heard from again. Needless to say, children were warned not to fall under his nefarious influence, but sometimes to no avail.

That Christmas Eve, though, was to be one like no other. As the bell tower clock rang midnight, three tall figures in dazzling attire emerged from the forest, each solemnly carrying a jewelled box with a gift. Some Everlanders burst into tears as they thought they recognised their long-lost youths, now all grown up, in these imposing characters. 

The first gift was a powder that when sprinkled on the ground made every plot of land fertile, yielding rich harvests. The second gift was a thin coating that, when applied to surfaces, would buzz with energy during the daytime, powering every machine you connected to it. The third gift looked somewhat like an old-fashioned wooden abacus, but it was an ingenious number system that worked even better than shiny metal, and was free for everyone to use.

When they emerged from their week-long festivities and realised what had happened, the Grower, Maker and Keeper families tried to stop the plain folk from using these gifts. They declared them heathen, referring to the dark reputation of the sorcerer. They dismissed them, preferring to stick to their own way of doing things. But it was too late. The plain folk didn’t pay them any heed, and gleefully started using the gifts in their daily work. The year that followed was a bounty year for Everland, the likes of which we will probably never see again.  

When the dark days came around again, streets and trees were filled with lights, the smell of cinnamon and chocolate wafted through the cold air, believers sang to their heart’s content, and shops had outdone themselves with presents wrapped in mesmerising colours. One incongruous nativity scene did stand out, as someone had added a woven basket in the shape of a horn, with fruits and vegetables spilling out of it. 

As was the custom, everyone celebrated together and shared a sumptuous meal. But this time, there were no longer any Keepers, or Makers, or Growers; everyone was just an Everlander, and wealthy and healthy to boot. After the meal, everyone moved to their beautiful home and continued the festivities, and nobody had to worry about the cost of an extra log on the fire. The Everlanders who used to call themselves Makers or Keepers or Growers did, truth be told, feel a little sad that they weren’t special anymore, and also because they now had to take care of their own cooking and garden and children. Soon enough, though, they were overcome with the spirit of Christmastime and felt blessed to be Everlanders. 

Every year, as Everlanders celebrate their Christmas meal together, some report that they see a tall, lanky figure dancing joyously in village square, his face in the shadows. They even claim that he vanishes into thin air as they approach him, so that this must be the sorcerer – but their testimony is unreliable, as they have all had far too much eggnog.