Christmas Miracles

During the Christmas season, anything is possible. The blessed abundance of good cheer and of selfless giving seems to overflow from everyone’s proverbial cup. Furthermore, it seems that miracles—big and small—happen more often at Christmastime. I’ve already got a handful of little Christmas miracles that I'd like to share with you.

Miracle 1: Christmas Party Success!

Last Saturday night, Sarah and I hosted a Christmas party at her apartment, and many miraculous things occurred. First, we had invited almost everyone we knew living in Madrid a few weeks prior to the much anticipated event; but we had no idea who would actually grace us with their presence. By the end of the night, most people we had hoped would come did… and then some! SK’s Brazilian roommate, Priscilla, invited at least a dozen of her friends in her Master’s program, and they were from all over South America, such as Chile, Bolivia, Venezuela, & Colombia. They were a fun gang and I enjoyed connecting with “my fellow Chileans.” A second miracle of the night was that Francisco, one of our Peruvian friends who we met in Porto, actually grew up in the same neighborhood as Elly’s boyfriend, Ricardo, the one who cooked my second Thanksgiving turkey this year. They ended up naming common friends and talking about the local life in Lima. Pretty amazing, huh? Third, the party preparations turned out quite well. SK made a perfect Christmas tortilla, a tasty version of wassil, and a Rice Crispy’s treat wreath (but made with cornflakes due to lack of Rice Crispy’s in Spain). I contributed a color-coordinated tomato, cucumber, cheese salad and some traditional Spanish sweets. And a final miracle from Saturday: I re-learned how to make paper snowflakes. Yes, that was a miracle. You should have seen the first few ones I made…

Miracle 2: Yadira’s visit

Yadira was there for our Christmas party. (Unfortunately, Ida got sick and couldn’t come to Madird last weekend. We missed her!) Yadira flew into Madrid last Friday evening, because she also had a Wednesday flight back to the USA for Christmas holidays. She stayed with me for those five nights, and we had a great time catching up, laughing together, doing a bit of shopping, and enjoying Madrid. I consider Yadira’s friendship a miracle, because I love this woman with all my heart and soul. She totally changed my Madrid experience last year for the better, and I’ve missed not having her around town this year. She’s a gem and her visit was one of the best Christmas gifts ever!

Miracle 3: The Gifts of Being on a Volleyball Team

I played my last volleyball match of 2009 on Sunday morning. With ten out of twelve there, we won our match. I’d say it was a bit miraculous that we pulled out the win in two games, because our opponents were giving us a run for our money. After our victory, we went to a café for refreshments and a game of Amigo Invisible (aka Secret Santa). In my opinion, I gave the best gift (a pretty ceramic piece from Portugal) and—dare I say it?—received the lamest (a kid’s puzzle and a mug with a stuffed frog keychain, which probably came from a dollar store). Gosh, I sound like a bad person... However, I realize that Christmas is much more than gifts, and I’m going to sip tea from my Toadally Cool mug with pleasure.

I’ve enjoyed playing volleyball this fall, but I had hoped that I would hang out with these girls off the courts, too. However, that hasn’t exactly happened… until another Christmas miracle me pasó. As we were finishing our snacks, one of my very favorite girls, Ana, asked me if I’d like to join her and her parents for lunch that afternoon. I accepted her invitation, and we returned to her house before climbing into the car with her parents. We drove to Las Rozas, a Madrid suburb where the nearby mountains form an eye-catching backdrop, because Ana’s family had heard of a new seafood restaurant. We dined on various species of succulent crabs and shrimp, shellfish, and most exciting of all, percebes. Percebes are barnacle-like creatures that grow on the rocks off the northern coast of Spain and Portugal. They are extremely expensive because of their scarcity and because of the fact that men die in their dangerous pursuit of these small animals, dashed upon the rocks or sucked under by the unforgiving Atlantic. To finally taste this rare delicacy was a dream come true. I could simply gush for hours about how great Ana’s family is and how much I really enjoyed their company & appreciated their generosity or about how awesome our meal was that day… but I’ll sum up all that goodness and call it another Christmas miracle.

Miracle 4: Madrid Family Love

Unlike Thanksgiving, we give and receive gifts at Christmas (unless you’ve been naughty). I was honored this past week when almost all of my families showered me with some really nice gifts for Christmas. It really is a miracle that I work for such wonderful people and with some really great kids. I thank the Lord for that blessing, because having these children and their parents in my Madrid-life has been a wonderful thing. I’m positive I will always keep in touch with the twins and their parents, Marisa & Javier, and I might just sneak Belén back to the USA when I return for good next summer.

Miracle 5 & 6: Madrid’s Light Show and Snow!

Madrid has been decked out for Christmas since the end of November. All of the colorful and gorgeous lights hanging across the major streets or flashing on the sides of Corte Inglés, the largest department store on the Iberian Peninsula, have created an illuminating display of Christmas cheer.
Yadira, Sarah, and I took a Christmas lights walk on Sunday night, singing carols as we went along. Nothing like looking at Christmas lights and singing your favorites to get you in the holiday spirit. I feel so lucky to live in Madrid that has the ability to spread the miracle of Christmas joy throughout the city in such a fantastic way.

What really added to the city’s seasonal decoration came in natural form: snow! When I walked out my front door to go to school on Monday, I stopped short and made a shout of surprise when I looked out onto the street and saw that all the cars were covered in a thin layer of white snow. It continued to snow flurries that morning, but when the sun came out later, practically everything melted by mid-afternoon. No matter. It snowed in Madrid, which is a rarity, especially considering the fact that Yadira & I were sitting outside a café on Saturday afternoon and she was wearing short sleeves because it was so warm.

Miracle 7: Home for Christmas

The miraculous atmospheric phenomenon returned on Wednesday morning, which I noticed from my seat in the Madrid Barajas airport. Unfortunately, the freezing and wet conditions caused my Delta flight to be delayed, since we had to wait for them to de-ice the plane. My 9+ hour flight went by rather quickly thanks to three movies and the chatty guy who sat next to me. Yet, because of the setback in Madrid, I missed my connecting flight to Dothan and had to wait another 5+ hours before catching the next plane to my hometown. I passed the hours by writing a bit, getting pampered with a manicure while sitting in a massage chair, strolling around, and snacking on that American deliciousness we call Moe’s... so it wasn't too bad of a wait.

My family met me at the Dothan airport just before 10 PM Central Standard Time and it was a beautiful Christmas miracle indeed! Almost unbelievably, my luggage did not make it to Dothan… and I expect it to be delivered Christmas-package style to my front door this afternoon. I'm expecting another arrival this afternoon, too: Justin. I’m excited to see him and my Dothan girls, Erin, Gillian & Anna. They say home is where the heart is and my friends and my family have my heart. It’s good to be home.

Precious Portugal

The rich scent of damp wood and water-laden air filled our nostrils as we followed the path of moss-covered steps further up the mountainside. It was certainly no ordinary staircase but rather the way of a spiritual pilgrimage. Peaceful silence engulfed the tranquil sanctuary, creating a sacred bubble of serenity that is not enjoyed often enough by those used to the clamor of the city. As my mind moved away from To-Do lists and into the realm of calm contemplation, my feet continued to carry me upwards towards the pinnacle: Santuário do Bom Jesus do Monte.

Outside the city of Braga, the Sanctuary of Bom Jesus crowns the hilltop in extravagant Baroque glory. The zig-zagged staircase at the base of the church is impressive and mesmerizing. Statues proclaim the Truth from their stony perches and the spiritual waters flow forth from fountains steeped in symbolism. The altar piece inside the church portrays the scene at Calvary with life-like statues that leave you speechless and humble. Behind the magnificent building, a small pond with colorful rowboats serves as place for reflecting on the eternal in a more light-hearted manner.

A week ago, I had no idea I would have such a transcendental experience during my 4 day trip to Portugal. And perhaps that is why it was extra special.

Taking advantage of the holiday weekend in Spain, Sarah and I set off for the Country Next Door early on Saturday morning. A few hours later, we emerged from the São Bento metro in the heart of Porto. The tiled façade of a church that greeted us was such a beautiful surprise that we couldn’t stop sounds of appreciation escaping from our lips… “Oh, wow,” we both gasped. When something like that happens, you know you are somewhere special.

Porto, Portugal, is an incredible gem, rising up from the banks of the Douro River like an antique puzzle, with colored edges faded yet nonetheless striking. Dozens of church belfries peek above the reddish-orange shingled-roofs of buildings stacked one on top of the other. The clanging bells compete with the shrill cries of seagulls, resonating with the harmony between man and nature. Porto is a city of charming contrast where dominating neoclassical palaces border medieval churches and where cheery tiled walls touch the charred remains of a former neighbor.

Thanks to British exportation, Porto has received world renown for its fortified wines named after the city itself. Porto became the natural city for the manufacturing and aging of the wine, because it is the gateway between the terraced vineyards situated up the Douro River and its mouth that opens to the Atlantic and to the world. Barcos rabelos served as the original transportation method between the vineyards and the wine cellars, but now they are used mostly for nostalgic purposes. Most of the traditional boats are anchored on the bank opposite the city’s center along the Cais de Gaia, a street lined with wine cellars mostly sporting British names like Taylors, Cockburn, and Sandeman. Of course, our stay would not be complete without a tour of an authentic Port wine maker. A ticket deal granted Sarah and me a tour of the Sandeman wine lodge and a tour of the Palácio da Bolsa, the opulent Stock Exchange Palace of Porto whose magnificence makes you want to sing “Masquerade” from Phantom of the Opera. We did just that.

But there is so much more to Porto than its sickly sweet alcoholic beverage. The city is a living breathing museum where almost every building is a work of art, brightly decorated in various patterns of tile, framed by whitewashed wooden windows, and accented by wrought iron balconies. Porto is home to many interesting churches, too. São Francisco Church has one of the most impressive church interiors I've ever seen. The walls and ceilings are covered in gilded wood in a Rocco-Baroque style that carries your eyes from twisted vines below to glorious figures above. The Igreja dos Clérigos has the tallest tower in Portugal, and SK & I got a bird’s eye view of the marvelous city one non-rainy morning. Actually, it rained most of the time we were in Porto, but try as it might, the ugly weather couldn’t prevent us from being enchanted by the city.

Unlike many of our past mini-trips, we met a lot of people through our hostel and then actually hung out with them. For example, on night we went out to the Cais de Ribeira (a UNESCO World Heritage site and the location of Porto’s nightlife) with some fellow Americans who also work in small towns in Extremadura (a south-western Spanish province). The six of us represented our country from coast to coast, and we enjoyed comparing teaching stories and travel experiences. On another night, SK & I hung out with some Peruvians who work in Madrid. They’re coming to our Christmas party this weekend. Lastly, I had a lot of great conversations with Vicky, a girl from Mexico who’s studying Brazilian guitar and works at the hostel. Actually, there were several times when I preferred to stay in our cozy Christmasy hostel and chat with her rather than walk about the city in the drizzling rain. Marta also worked at the hostel and her 8 year old daughter, Marina, gave SK & me a Portuguese lesson one morning, Portuguese is a beautiful mix of Spanish, French, and Italian sounds (those Romance Languages), and I find it quite fascinating. After Marina’s lesson, I’d consider myself quite conversational, since we did carry on together for about 20 minutes or so. ;-)

We loved Porto, but we might have loved our experience in Braga even more. On Monday morning, SK & I took a train from the São Bento Station to Braga. Without too much effort, we located the pedestrian-friendly city center and realized that we had discovered Disney’s European version of a Christmastown. The heart of Braga was decked to the halls with lights, music, and window displays, all contributing to an atmosphere of complete Christmas cheer. The Praça da República was transformed into a luminous tribute to the Nativity Scene and exuded holiday joy. SK & I were simply beside ourselves with merriment and delight.

Other than skipping around like school children, sitting at charming cafes for a coffee or a tasty pastry (have I mentioned that Portugal is famous for its various pastries?), and doing a bit window shopping, the only thing Sarah and I “saw” was the Sanctuary of Bom Jesus, which I described at the beginning of my tale. That grand staircase was one of many staircases that we climbed over the weekend. Portugal is quite hilly; Braga and Porto are no exceptions. I don’t think my knees appreciated our trip as much as the rest of me did, because they are still protesting their past sufferings days later. My taste buds, on the other hand, are wondering where the party went now that I’m back in Madrid. The truth is that they got a good taste of Portugal, all too literally.

Speaking of parties, it’s my last weekend in Europe before I fly home on Wednesday for Christmas vacation. Sarah & I caught the Christmas spirit in Portugal and now we have brought it back to Madrid. We’ve invited almost everyone we know in Madrid to come to our Christmas party on Saturday. I’ll let you know how it goes. ¡Feliz Navidad!

Giving Thanks Here and There

Celebrating Thanksgiving in England last weekend was great fun, but it was only the beginning. Never in my life have I had so many Thanksgiving-related festivities! The Pilgrims and Indians had a three day feast, but I had a week-long extravaganza that went as follows…

Teaching Thanksgiving: I read The Pilgrims’ First Thanksgiving a dozen times over the past few days, sharing the story of how the Pilgrims endured their first year in America and why they had reason to rejoice over their first successful harvest. It took a while for some of the kids to figure out why they don’t celebrate the holiday here in Spain… glad I got that sorted out.

Friday’s Feast: My friend, Elly, hosted a small gathering of friends for a Thanksgiving feast. There the company was absolutely delightful and the food was irresistible! Ricardo’s turkey was incredibly delicious and impressively overflowing with lots of goodies—like nuts, fruits, ground beef, and spices—which he whipped up from his Italian heritage. I’m afraid I stuffed myself with another amazing selection of holiday food for the second time this week! My food baby, Jorge, did not appreciate it when after dinner at Elly’s, SK & I took him out for a night of dancing to celebrate Elaine’s last night in Madrid for the year. (But she’s coming back in January, yay!)

A Pilgrims & Indians Party: SK & I met a new crowd of folks on Saturday night at Emily’s party. Even though Emily is American, most of her roommates or neighbors are British. They were really excited to have an excuse to wear feathered headdresses and make tomahawks. Emily’s mom had sent her cider, which was the perfect flavor for the occasion!

Church Celebration: In this First Sunday of Advent, Pastora Cathy incorporated the meaning of Thanksgiving into the service. I think that this little poem below says it all. Cathy found it in a crumpled newspaper a couple of weeks ago, and she talked about it in her children’s sermon. I’ll leave you with these words of wisdom… and I thank the Unknown Author who gave them to us.

Be thankful that you don’t already have everything you desire.

If you did, what would there to be to look forward to?

Be thankful when you don’t know something

For it gives you the opportunity to learn.

Be thankful for the difficult times.

During those times you grow.

Be thankful for your limitations,

Because they give you opportunities for improvement.

Be thankful for each new challenge,

Because it will build your strength and character.

Be thankful for your mistakes.

They will teach you valuable lessons.

Be thankful when you’re tired and weary,

Because it means that you’ve made a difference.

It is easy to be thankful for the good things.

A life of rich fulfillment comes to those who are also thankful for the setbacks.

Bringing Thanksgiving to Birmingham

In 1621, the Pilgrims left England and sailed to America. That first winter was incredibly difficult for the Pilgrims, and they suffered many hardships. Luckily, Squanto and other Native Americans showed them the ropes of how to take advantage of the bounties from the land that would later be called Massachusetts. By the following autumn, they held a three-day feast in order to celebrate all the wonderful food they gathered from their harvest. At the first Thanksgiving, there were actually more Native Americans than Pilgrims. Since the 1800s, Americans have honored this time in our history and have dedicated one day out of the year to remember to count our blessings and gather with family and friends around a table for a delicious feast.

I had my first Thanksgiving celebration of the year this past weekend… and I feasted in the very country that the Pilgrims left: England!

Sarah and I traveled to Birmingham, England in order to have a Thanksgiving with Yadira, who now lives in Bham instead of Madrid. We arrived on Saturday; that night, the three of us went into downtown Bham for the German Christmas Market, where we perused the holiday wares displayed under the tents, snacked on bratwursts, and drank glühwein (mulled wine). Sunday morning was spent preparing for the big party—a grocery store run and several hours in the kitchen. Yadira was in charge of the turkey, whom I named Stanley, and SK & I took care of some side dishes: mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, dressing (aka stuffing), and sweet potato casserole.

Yadira and her three awesome roommates (Jenn from CA, Yogi from India, & Anya from Poland) hosted over ten guests from various parts of England and even Australia. It was truly an international bunch, and everyone enjoyed learning about our American tradition. Take a look at the video for a visual display of the Sunday-Thanksgiving action!

After our afternoon feast, we were all rendered pretty much useless and content to stay inside (it was dark by 5:00 anyway) for the remainder of the night. However, the roommates and us two free-loaders managed to move our bodies for a spontaneous dance party later on! The trip was short but sweet, and early Monday morning Yadira drove SK & me to the bus station where we caught our bus to the Luton-London airport. SK & I enjoyed our time with Yadira, but we weren’t too sad to say goodbye because we’ll be hosting her in Madrid in just a few weeks!
My 3^rd graders traveling class pet, Peppa Pig, went to England with me to have an American Thanksgiving, and we kicked off the holidays with an indulgent treat: a Christmas-sprinkles KrispyKreme doughnut.

I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving! I am thankful for so many things, and I'm thrilled that I've still got a few more chances to celebrate!

What else is new?

School talk:

My school schedule has had a number of makeovers since the school year began. The most recent re-do was given to me this week. I have now lost all my classes with first grade (sad day… I was getting quite attached to them, and I enjoyed working with Carmen), with the preschoolers (misery averted…), and with all other random classes I was asked to pop into once a week (which was just plain pointless). As a result, I will only be working with both of Victor’s 5^th grade classes and with Cristina’s 3^rd grade class.

The reason behind the schedule alteration is because a fourth teaching-assistant has finally arrived. Now there are four of us: Yazmin from California/Mexico, Sharon from NYC, Kellie from Liverpool, England, and me! We are all quite different, and I think we bring a special diversity to our school.

Sunday news:

Call me crazy, but I went to two different church services this past Sunday. After attending the service at my “home church,” The Community Church of Madrid, I met up with Elaine in order to check-out Immanuel Baptist Church. I was surprised by how large the congregation was, especially with it being the second service, and I really liked how diverse it was. If I can’t make it to CCM because of volleyball, I think I’ll give this church a go.

Speaking of volleyball, almost all 12 of my teammates were present for our game Sunday night. We didn’t just win. We annihilated our opponents. Then again, the average age of my team is around 28 and that of losers was more like 16. But hey, a win is a win. Put that one down in the score books.

New friends!

"One Euro Wednesdays" at 100 Montaditos is the perfect way to get to know someone. Between sips from a jarra de tinto del verano and bites of mini-baguettes filled with deliciousness (aka un montadito), I found myself enamored with a girl I had met less than an hour earlier. Emily is a Kentucky-girl who grew up with one of my Furman friends who put us in contact with each other this summer. However, this was our first and long overdue face-to-face meeting. As if it weren’t great enough to make a new friend, Emily is a new friend who lives in my neighborhood, a stone’s throw from my school and where I tutor. I had the pleasure of meeting some of her roommates, and I have a feeling I’ll be popping in after work on weeknights. I’m excited about the possibility of having another group of friends to hang out with at random here in Madrid. One would think that living in a big city, surrounded by thousands of people everyday, would make it easy to find friends. Not so. Thus, I can’t wait to see where Emily and I will be going!

Holiday tunes

I was in the grocery store on Monday afternoon, and I heard it: the first Christmas song of the year. It was an instrumental version of “Sleigh Ride.” Yet, as much as it lifted my spirits to be filled with Christmas Cheer, I have to make it through being filled with all the goodness of a Thanksgiving feast… or two!

My Newest & Most Noticeable Neighbor

All throughout my childhood, my next-door neighbors had so many pets over the years that might as well have been The Secondary Humane Society of Dothan. While some of their dogs were ordinary and unremarkable, I don’t think I’ll ever forget their two Dachshunds… nor will my parents. Those two hot dogs were yappers, and they barked day and night. As a child, I understood why my parents were frustrated with the boisterous animals, whose bedroom bordered the dogs’ domain. They endured the little guys for a few years and rejoiced when the neighbors decided to swap them for other fury creatures.

Now, I fully understand my parents’ past pain, because I suffer the same plight. You see, my bedroom window opens up to the interior patio of my apartment building. I live on the 1^st floor, and sounds from the inhabitants of the seven floors above me fall down the shaft and echo into my room. Thus, I hear every soccer game, every piece of fish frying, every baby crying, and every dog barking, Someone, I don’t know who, recently brought a brand new puppy home… and I mean, brand new. It cries in the mornings. It cries in the afternoons. It cries at night. I used to think that my neighbors were playing a cruel trick on me, lowering down their wailing puppy by a rope for it to hang in front of my window while I try to sleep. Nope! It’s just that loud. My hope has been that once it grows up, it’ll stop crying. Well, I’m pretty sure it’s growing, because it doesn’t cry as often as it used to because it’s learning how to bark. What a dream come true.

I think this puppy is causing me more harm than just sleep deprivation. I realized today that every time I see a small dog in the street, no matter how far from my apartment I am, I wrinkle my nose and grimace, wondering if that is the fury face of my torturer. I used to be a dog lover, but if this thing doesn’t quit, I can’t make any promises that I’ll be a dog owner ever again.

Ok, perhaps I’m overreacting a bit. But if you’re ever in Madrid, come hang out in my apartment for the day, and then you tell me if you’d live with Yapping Yonny.

Plundering Asturias

If this a treasure map be

Over mountains, through valleys

No doubt, you will eventually see

That in this land lies more than gold:

Furious waves, beaches of dark sand,

Opulent & rustic architecture of old,

Local people eager to lend a hand.

Fickle weather: grey clouds or drizzling rain,

Broken at random with streams of sunlight,

Quickly return to their seasonal refrain.

To find respite from the precipitation,

Ducking into the nearest sidería

Offers necessary and cheery resuscitation

For any spirits that may be weather-affected,

The notable regional dishes and flavorful pichos

Will surely make things stand corrected.

These are the riches you will find

If you come to Asturias

And leave the rest of Spain behind.

This small region of Spain holds so much within its borders. SK and I set off to discover some of the Asturian delights and to visit Ida, who’s now teaching in Gijon. After an overnight bus trip, we arrived groggy and a little delirious early Saturday morning. Ida gave us the tour of her new city after we had some time to nap in her darling little apartment. We were quite impressed by the beauty and charisma of this coastal town. Inspired by the landscape and a park playground, we imagined we were pirates for the weekend, seeking out the riches of Asturias, which translated to plundering a number of bars and restaurants for their spectacular cuisine. Fortuitously, Gijon was having a pincho competition with 75 different eating establishments seeking to win glory and fame for the most appetizing and best-looking delicatessen of them all.

Asturias is known for its sidra (cider) and its sidrerías (cider houses). On Sunday afternoon, we fought through the torrential downpour that took us by surprise and arrived at Tierra Astur, soaked and hungry. (http://www.tierra-astur.com/) With a dry seat between the window and an assemblage of hanging cider bottles, glittering like emeralds in front of the open kitchen, we were challenged with the task of ordering from a rather large menu of enticing treats to feast upon. What we thought would be an easy battle, turned out to be a challenge of epic proportions...

We decided on sharing a tabla de quesos asturianos. The cheeses were simply incredible… the best thing since sliced bread (which complimented the cheese quite nicely)! We destroyed it and kept no prisoners.

Since my cohorts did not take my advice, we each had an entree to follow the cheeses. But these were not normal Spanish entrees, and rather they fell under American standards of size. Thus, we were not prepared for the immense scope of our order.
Ida had a savory hamburger (yes, a burger in Spain... but Asturias is known for its cow products); Sk ordered the pot of fabada (a rich bean stew and Asturian specialty); I got the medallones de buey (ox sirloin steak).
When our server brought us our meals, we had to ask "Did we take on more than we could chew? Literally?"

Yes, we did... this was one battle we could not win.

On Monday, SK and I set sail (if busses had sails) from Gijon because we wanted to spend a few hours in Oviedo, the capital of Asturias. Although Oviedo doesn’t have the beach, it does have a mysterious romantic quality to it, which perhaps is evoked through the elegant and whimsical city exterior and the abundance of bronze statues that greet visitors in plazas and on street corners. I was captivated by the way the raindrops clung to the stone surfaces and the way that cobblestone streets shone like silver in the cloudy light.

We toured the 14^th century cathedral, strolled through a park and fought off an army of pigeons, and hid from the rain in none other than Oviedo’s Tierra Astur. This time, we only ordered a half portion of the cheese plate… and we conquered it in the most graceful-pirate-manner possible.

Asturias: The land of green hills and sounds of bagpipes, reminiscent of the British Isles. The land known for its savory palate and rich flavors. The land of unending culínes de sidra, poured from above and over the head into a glass far below. The land where umbrellas are a necessity and where the rain falls at will. Truly enchanting.