The smell of cinnamon coming from the casks with mulled wine was slowly dancing its way into the nearby houses. The snow – which was shy at noon but had been gaining courage all afternoon and has covered everything up with a thick white blanket – crepitated playfully under the myriads of feet marching gaily towards the enormous Christmas tree in the centre of Hauptmarkt.
On the north-west side of the market, one could not help but notice the spiralling queue in front of a cookie booth. The delicacy – where einkorn, blueberry, and walnuts united only to be sprinkled with ginger-hinted dark chocolate – has already become viral and people were anxiously waiting to bestow their palates with the mouth-watering dessert. Many coupled it with the heart-warming Glühwein to take pleasure in the ultimate treat.
Though it was below freezing, glee and joy seemed to overwhelm the hustle and bustle of the square, teeming with domestic and foreign visitors. The lights were vivaciously pirouetting in unison with the melodic performance of the Mittelfranken’s choir. While red was playing with green and blue was boogying with purple, yellow domineered with grace. Even the most shattered of hearts found solace in this faery of lights. For a moment, everybody forgot its fears and problems, forgot the cold, forgot even their nationality and race.
Some say miracles happen on Christmas. Others cast a doubt over that. But what is a miracle? How does one define a miracle? Is it something magical, something utopian, something beyond imagination, or is it something that could be felt, touched, breathed? The answer is somewhere out there. Just open your heart and you will find it.