This is the time of year when those with German roots or connections turn their minds to Lebkuchen: delicious gingerbread biscuits coated with sugar or chocolate, which go so well with mulled wine on Advent Sundays. Nowadays Lebkuchen can easily be bought in Dublin, but there is nothing to match the old-fashioned German store where the staff behave as they have done for at least the past century. A friend just back from Germany gives this picture: "As you enter the store you are greeted with a chorus of `good afternoons'. The first apron-clad man takes your order, climbs a ladder to retrieve the Lebkuchen from the highest of the deep mahogany shelves, and passes it to the second man, who meticulously wraps each box separately. The customer then goes to a third, elderly man in a booth who takes your Deutschmarks, and, as you leave the shop, the young boy opens the door and hands you your bag of Christmas goodies. Finally, you leave to a chorus of `goodbyes' - a very different experience to most Dublin supermarkets."
Advent calendars are another German tradition that has transferred to Ireland. But why is it that the traditional style has also been lost? Advent calendars should have old-fashioned Christmas scenes, twinkling with glitter, our friend says, with the 24 windows carefully concealed so that the children have to search to find them out. But, ancient or modern, the opening of Advent calendars is a lovely tradition which children will remember with pleasure all their lives. And why only 24 windows? That is because Germans celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve, often eating carp, and giving each other their presents before going on to midnight service or Mass. All this arises out of a visit by our friend recently to Celle, a small market town near Hannover, where the 17th Century houses are straight from a picture book: the epitome of Christmas when snow-clad.
It is a conservative town. Our friend relates that, after the war, the burghers of Celle were offered either a university or a prison. They opted for the latter. Could it have been that rowdy students might have disturbed the traditional peace of their beautiful little town? Hardly; while the students might have been rowdy, they would surely have brought more prestige and money. Or maybe, indeed, peace and quiet means more to them than money. Anyway, thanks to our friend for his picture of a touch of old-world civility.