It must have been ten years since I attended a Christmas mass. They have obviously not changed much. The Prayers in the Church is always of the same mold. A big mistake in the little portable missal I held. All dates had been changed except for the date on the first inner page. It, therefore, read "December 25, 2010".
We'll have a white veil in Montreal for Christmas. It will have been a cold night, but it is getting milder. In a few hours, I will return to the tradition of the midnight mass, which is no longer midnight because it is too late to pray to the good God at this hour.
She welcomes you with a beautiful kindness at the church door and climbs sharply in front of you to the organ perched very high, at the second rood chamber. She sits in front of the Casavant, rummages through his many papers, makes jokes, adjusts his flowery scarf.
As winter arrives, a strange phenomenon occurs on the balconies. Deformed entities, from who knows what nightmare, come to life. Some move around like they have asthma, others, more stoic, look at you with a nasty Joker look. We just want to call Batman to reassure and protect us.