The Return of The Light - Maureen Royce

The Return of the Light – Making ready for Christmas

Here at the centre the preparations and decorations, the calendar stuffed to bursting, the cards and calendars and the buying of Kimberleys all create a flurry of activity taking our minds away from the early afternoon darkness. We know that in mid-November, we are only five weeks’ away from the winter solstice; the longest day but also a slow return to lengthening days.  The five weeks before Grianstad an Gheimhridh (Winter, Sun, Stop) are filled with frantic activity as we make ready for the pre-Christmas rituals; the music, the costumes, the shopping, the visiting, the menu planning. Collectively we prepare for the coming of the light. Our ancestors celebrated the turning point of the year as a triumph of light over darkness. In 2025, we once again give hope that our preparations will bring a sense of joy and even wonder into a world struggling to hope.  

Writers and poets sought to give us hope in the dark nights. There is a shared theme of enduring the winter cold expressed by Seamus Heaney writing “If we winter this one out, we can summer anywhere.” Shelley asks “If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”. As a child, the writing of many many cards home to Ireland, including sometimes a photograph or an embroidered handkerchief and the trips to the Post Office to post in batches were as much a part of the ritual as the trips to Woolworths distracted by small bags of sweets while secret purchases were made. However they managed it, parents were able to hide those purchases away until they returned, wrapped and tinselled, on Christmas Eve.

The first of the Advent candles will be lit this year on 30th November. The candle will be purple representing hope and preparation. The candles also suggest that this is a time for personal reflection, a luxury not afforded to many in this hectic world. Around this time each year I think about being in junior school. Our class teacher read to us on Friday afternoons and even though now coming up to our 70th year we remember that telling of ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ with clarity. In the story, C.S. Lewis tells us about the land of Narnia which came under the spell of the White Witch so that it was perpetually winter but without the hope of Christmas. As a child, and now as a granny, the line “Always winter and never Christmas” was something I look upon with dismay. We need a Christmas and we need the recognition from ancient times that the next five weeks are about the return of the light, a time of generosity and rebirth, a time of hope, wreathmaking and preparation.

So, when the rain soaks you through and the socks aren’t quite warm enough. When the mid-afternoon light fades into night so quickly, these words sometimes come back to me. And I have reflected that for children and families in our own community, in the city and around the globe there must be a sense of having winter and never Christmas. For too many, foodbanks are not an emergency, they are an essential part of survival. War, threats of violence, climate change mean that no room at the inn has a dreadful and real meaning. The Grianstad an Gheimhridh (Winter, Sun, Stop) has traditionally been a time of communal generosity so in the midst of the lists

and the shopping, this is a very good time to think about the coming of Advent in terms of how we offer love, support, kindness and recognise the pressure that the commercialisation of Christmas can bring. Images of supposed perfection pushed through social media and tv advertising can bring anxiety and feelings of inadequacy as we strive to live up to expectations that are neither real nor helpful. Let’s think about the action or word that might make a difference to a lonely or struggling person or family and as we head towards the light make it happen.

Maeve Binchy wrote about a Week in Winter in the novel of that name. A bringing together of many different types of people each with their own world story each comforted by being in a communal space. It made me think of us as we come together for the wonderful family events and the joy of the Grotto in the shed and share in being part of the Irish Centre community. The quiet truth of the return of the light is the knowledge that happiness doesn’t come in expensive colour co-ordinated wrapping but in the warmth of a smile or the cup of tea to a cold or worn-out visitor. If you are reading this and have not visited yet, please do pop into our Boundary Lane home. Details of all events are on www.liverpoolirishcentre.org.

Dr. Maureen Royce, Chair