Christel Monni writes about her journey to Lapland and to Oulu, where preparations for Christmas were under way.
In our family it is a tradition to spend Christmas in Sodankylä, in Lapland. The place is dear to us. There my parents-in-law cultivated barley and kept dairy cattle from the time they were married in 1938. During the war the house was bombed and destroyed. My mother-in-law, then still a young mother, was evacuated with her firstborn child and returned when the child was one year old. The firstborn died soon afterwards of measles, as did a cousin of the same age.
The hardworking couple built a new house, which was completed in 1949. Over the years the family was blessed with seven more children, one of whom moved to Oulu to study and work. He later became my husband, and because of him I moved from Helsinki to Oulu, where I lived for 33 years. Since then, I have spent my Christmases in Sodankylä. My husband has now passed away, but the house has been renovated and maintained in accordance with present-day requirements. In that beloved rural setting, Christmas continues to be celebrated with our two now adult children.
I moved back to Helsinki ten years ago, but it has become my habit, during my journeys north, also to visit the Church of the Holy Family of Nazareth in Oulu and, especially in the summer, the diaspora Mass celebrated once a month in Rovaniemi. Particularly before Christmas, I feel these visits are important. The distance from Oulu to Sodankylä is 350 kilometres, and from there there would still be another, somewhat longer stretch to Finland’s northern border. The parish of Oulu is geographically the largest in our diocese – covering more than half of Finland – and the distances are unparalleled.
As I cannot attend the Christmas Night Mass in my own cathedral parish of Saint Henry, I usually follow the Christmas Night Mass from the Vatican on television or watch the livestream from our cathedral. These do not, of course, replace being physically present at Mass, but they are nevertheless important, and I am grateful that this possibility is available to us and to many who live far away.
Today I once again had the opportunity to visit the Church of the Holy Family. On my way there, I wondered whether Lucia, whom I have known for many years, might be there. She was, and our reunion was warm and heartfelt. Lucia and the cheerful children Katin, Filip, Elia and Aaron were enjoying themselves by the Nativity scene. In front of the Holy Family’s Nativity scene it is also nice to stop for a photograph. The scene is very large, and when one studies it closely, one begins to feel as though one is part of the story. Day turns into night, the waterfall murmurs, and the fire in the hearth is lit and then fades. I saw the Nativity scene for the first time many years ago, and it still awakens in me feelings of warmth and security. This time I visited before Christmas, so Jesus had not yet been born, but there was a clear sense of expectation in the air.
There was a great deal of activity in the church premises. Children were rehearsing a Christmas play, an introductory course was being held in the back rooms, and a retreat that had just ended had also brought life into the house. It was led by Father Mauri, with whom it was pleasant to exchange a few words. He was also happy to pose for a photograph together with the boy Pietro.
Now my mind is calm, and it feels good to continue the journey toward even snowier landscapes. If the weather clears, we may see a sky full of stars in the evening, and a slight frost could also bring beautiful northern lights. Most important of all, however, is that tomorrow is the Fourth Sunday of Advent, and after that there are only a few nights left until we can once again sing: Gloria in excelsis Deo!
Christel Monni