Silent Night. There are thick flakes outside. Rolf has decorated-as every year-the tree and has gone to the bedroom to change.
He asks me not to enter the living room until evening. I am slightly irritated, then stay with a cup of winter magic tea sitting in the kitchen fireplace and read in my novel. My thoughts are circling around the evening and I remember this pearl necklace at Fochtmann, where I fell in love with the day of the Advent, during a walk with Rolf in Maximilianstrasse. Rolf drew me away from the shop window, after an eternity felt for him.
It's half past six. Rolf takes my hand and leads me into the living room. I do not believe my eyes. "They're all for you, you can unpack them all. I begin with the first little packet, in it a red note with a golden lettering "I love you" - then a truffle-praline, my favorite drops from the chocolate factory ...
Now I come to the big package, bigger than a hatbox, which is probably in it? I tear up the paper with angel motifs and see the packaging of a steam cooker. My blood freezes in the veins, I hold my breath. A massive wave of disappointment comes over me. I keep my tears back and try to say something.
Rolf grins only. He's just bringing me to the heat of the day. "Come on, let's pull the ugly tinsel from the tree, it just looks terrible," he says. Dazed and full of frustration I help him to take the silver threads from the tree.
I have to gather myself first ... I snort still inside. Now grab with both hands a particularly dense curtain of tinsel and will take it from the needles. Now I feel something else ... oh no, it's incredible ... my breath stops again ... my bead chain hangs here quite innocently on the branch..
I was very pleased with his visit, because Angelo, my son, had gone home from his home many years ago and lived with his family in Rome. For us both, Poggibonsi has always been a place of great attraction, because we were very much connected with the Templar Knights, who had once lived and worked here on the medieval, Romanesque Castello della Magioni.
I had just dropped Angelo at the Castello; he wanted to go for a walk there and be back in the early evening. I drove past the hills of the Chianti and enjoyed the view of the vineyards, which before me sank green into a wide valley. Then I stopped at the shop in the village and bought for dinner. I was very excited, I wanted to give him a special present today. I thought back to my visit to Munich a few weeks ago at Fochtmann in Maximilianstrasse. The day on which I could finally receive Angelo's jewelery, it was a Templar cross. The idea for this had been very long in me and I knew there could be nothing better. Angelo was back for dinner. After the Bistecca Fiorentina and the Caffè corretto I got up from the kitchen table and said "I'll be right back" and went through the hall into the bedroom. There I took the green box and placed it in front of Angelo on the notchy, sturdy wood of the table. "Pack, my son," I said. Angelo carefully pulled the gift ribbon, took off the lid. His gaze fell on the Templar Cross - bright, radiant, golden.
He was moved. Our eyes met, and I nodded to him. Then I began to speak, clearing my throat. "This cross is for you my boy, because I am so grateful to you that you were standing for me when I needed it so urgently, from now on it should accompany you as a talisman and give you the security and the protection that was then Also to the pilgrims who were protected by the Order.
I had completed my biggest project so far in the last few weeks. And yet this success felt empty, and I wondered why. Something was wrong. My colleague and old friend from the law firm had taken me aside a week ago and suggested to me a few days to relax. He was enthusiastic about Puerto Rico. I did not think long ...
Yesterday I landed here in San Juan and since the early afternoon on exploring in this noisy, bustling city. I let myself drift through the streets. Toward evening, I pulled on a Pina Colada in this small bar right on the harbor promenade. She sat directly opposite to a bench. I listened to her sympathetic laughter and was electrified.
Suddenly she waved to me and pointed at the Domino game. I went to her with shaky knees. We began to play ... She was a black-haired beauty, with cinnamon-colored, shining skin and shining, brown eyes. Charlotta was her name. We played for an eternity, laughing and joking. It was as if I were in a completely different world ... I did not want to leave anymore ... I felt as good as I had done for a long time ...
After my return, the start in the office seemed incredibly difficult. The best two weeks of my life were far too fast. My thoughts were all about her and I wanted to see her again. And of course I wanted to bring her something special.
On the way to the office I saw in the shop window this dominoes. I had it in my luggage when I arrived in San Juan.
They heard at home "Say it aloud when you love me" by Xavier Naidoo. This should be her song for the stand office. Was not it time to say it out loud? They were in love with their best friend, their best friend, and would now trust themselves.
The common experience was incredibly important to them. They had realized how happy they were to have found each other. They wanted to grow old together. Spend a wonderful time together and go through everything together.
They wanted to do it because they saw it as the fastest way to grow and develop together. It should be their rings. Unmistakable, unique. With their secret message. As a symbol bearer, to carry their promise for ever.
What could that be? Something that can, but need not, form a perfect unity. Something that can easily be added and still stand alone. One ring in the ring, one unit. With their promise that they share.
Once in the year Sylt, just the two of us. "We just need that," she says. Breathe, recharge and enjoy our togetherness. Listen, smell, sea noise. Let your feet tickle from the sand and foaming sea ... there, a shell, here, a starfish, oh, a snail shell!
Every year, the same ritual - we love the treasures of the sea, which simply flushes the surf ... The gift should be something unique. Shared days, beautiful memories ... Sylt, sea, beach property ... that is it! The beautiful moment when reading. Each piece a chance gift of nature and ready to reveal something of its journey through the windzers sea.
It is our evening, she wants to be on time. The fireplace in the living room crackles. I poured the quartz sand on the floor. And I am trying hard to make it in the form of the island of Sylt - which is not so easy - I have to spread the sand precisely along the large-format paper template. And I'm so excited. But it works out well.
Now it is time. I gently take the sparkling strand of the beach in my hands and place it Careful on the sand. Then the earrings. Shells, starfish and snail shells in perfection, as beautiful, as splendid as our days in Sylt.
Our place, our footprints in the sand, our beach property. Now in front of me! My heart is throbbing ... quiet sea-noise in the ear, waves of happiness flow through me.
The key turns in the door lock. How will she react?
Her greatest wish was to see La Traviata in the Semper Opera House, she liked the tragic role of Violetta and the ensemble playing there in Dresden. He then took them to an Italian restaurant for dinner. With a glass of champagne and red roses he made her a marriage application. He would never forget how excited he was, for he loved this fair-haired creature with the delicate tinted skin, the wary, light-blue eyes, and long, blond hair.
Four years had passed since then. He thought back to the common stations of her life, the birth of her son Louis, who was now two. To their common passion. She was like the opera. They both loved this music, the supernatural beauty of the song. And the soft, delicate and vacant parts in between, which gave you room for imagination and magic. After their last visit to Iolanta, they wondered if they did not even want to go back to the Met and they were enthusiastic about the last performance there.
Today, her engagement for the fourth time, and he wanted to crown this day with an extraordinary surprise. Louis was with his grandmother, whom he liked very much. Just as then, they had come to Dresden and
Went back to their Italian restaurant after the performance of Anna Bolena. He had arranged a candlelight dinner. They revelled in common memories as they took their aperitif.
At the same time, he placed his white cloth napkins between burning candles and red roses, and let some of them disappear. After dinner, he pulled an elongated envelope from his jacket and handed it to her. "For me, you should not," she carefully opened the paper. "Flight tickets to New York ... and two tickets to the Met, La Boheme, oh Christian, that's incredible!" She stood up and embraced him exuberantly.
After the meal he carefully pulled at the white, unused napkin. Something golden flashed. Unobtrusively, he handed her his handkerchief.