The Key of Life

A Little Faith

The cool morning light broke through a small opening in the curtains and illuminated the green leaves of the plants dotted around the bedroom. But it was not the light that woke Reva from her slumber, but the sound of someone walking around.

"What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely, once she realised that the intruder was only Dante.

As she asked the question, Dante stopped buttoning his shirt and turned to look at her, his eyes widened slightly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered, though Reva was already awake. "Go back to sleep. I'll leave, I was only getting ready."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Out."

"But it's a Sunday morning."

"Exactly, I'm going to church," Dante told her, returning to his buttons. He paused and looked back at her. "You can come with me if you like."

Reva frowned. "Me, come to church?"

"Don't worry if you'd rather not, I don't mind."

"It's not that, it's just... Well, would I be allowed to come to church?"

"Anyone can go to church, Reva, that's the point of a church," Dante chuckled. "Besides, it's a christingle service. There will be lots of people there who don't usually go, so you won't be the only infidel there this morning." He paused before adding, "As long as you don't burst into flames the moment you cross the threshold, of course."

"You're hilarious," said Reva. "That doesn't actually happen, does it?"

Dante winked at her. "Only one way to find out."

It was almost a dare, so now Reva had to go along with it. After managing to make herself look halfway-appropriate and quickly drinking a well-sugared mug of Dante's favourite Colombian blend, she accompanied him down the cobbled high street of the village towards the church.

"Do you really believe in it all?" she asked him as they walked. Dante fixed her with a peculiar look.

"Yes, I do. I wouldn't be going if I didn't," he replied. "Why do you look so surprised? Don't you believe in anything?"

"No, not really. And I guess I'm surprised that you do, too, because of all the drinking and the sex outside of marriage, and the fact that you're a bit fruity."

Dante laughed out loud.

"Okay, so I'm the first to admit that I'm not the most devout Christian, but it's how I was brought up, so it's a part of me, whether I like it or not. And I do like it, actually. I like the idea that there's something more to life than what we can just see and touch, and having faith in that, and in the world, it's... I don't know. Grounding, I suppose."

"It's balancing."

"In a way, yes."

Reva nodded slowly. She had not been brought up with any specific faith, but she understood the concept of seeing the world for more than its face value, even if she didn't personally subscribe to that school of thought.

Thankfully, she did not burst into flames as she crossed the threshold of the church, a grey stone building roughly shaped like a cross. The floor had marble tiles of alternating black and white, there were large stained glass windows high in the walls, and several haphazardly decorated Christmas trees lining the outsides of the aisles. At the front, candles in round orange holders decked a tiered display, and several children and their parents had gathered around a large table nearby. Dante led her straight to the table, and placed a coin into a collection pot in the middle.

"What are you paying for?" Reva whispered.

"The christingle you'll be making," replied Dante. He picked up a thin white candle and placed it in her hands, along with one of the orange holders, which Reva could now see was, in fact, an actual orange. "You need to stand the candle in the orange."

"Why?"

"Because the orange represents the world."

"And the candle?"

"That's Jesus, Reva."

"Of course it is. It looks just like him."

"It's symbolic. Come on. You need a ribbon next."

Reva raised her eyebrows, but she selected a piece of red ribbon as suggested. The children were tying their ribbons around their oranges, so she did the same.

"What does the ribbon represent?" she asked, tying it in a messy bow.

"Love," whispered Dante. Reva felt her cheeks flush slightly, and Dante cleared his throat before continuing, "God's love. All around the world."

"Okay. What's next?"

"We need four cocktail sticks to represent the four seasons, and some sweets. Not to eat."

"I guessed as much."

"The sweets symbolise the fruits of each season. It's to give thanks for the blessings we've enjoyed this year, and a good wish for things to come in the year ahead."

Reva smiled at Dante. She did have good things to be thankful for this year, after all. So, she picked up four cocktail sticks, handed two to Dante, and together the two of them selected which tiny sweets they would put on them. They stuck the sweet sticks into the orange at right angles to one another, and then Dante handed Reva a packet of matches.

"Be careful," he said, in a voice that was low and faux-serious. "I hear that non-believers are extremely flammable."

Reva pulled a face as she used the matches to light the candle.

"So, Jesus is on fire. Now what?"

"Now that the candle has been lit to signify that Jesus is the light of the world," said Dante, "we pray." Reva raised an eyebrow. "Well, I will pray. You will just have to sit here quietly and contemplate your life of sin, you utter heathen."

He gestured towards the display of candles, and Reva placed theirs on it with the others. She followed suit as Dante knelt on a low padded bench in front of the display, but while he lowered his head and closed his eyes, she kept hers open, looking around the church, at the stained glass windows, the candles, the children putting tiny sweets on cocktail sticks. In spite of the noise they made, it was peaceful, and everything was bathed in a warm glow. Her eyes lingered on the exposed baby hairs on the back of Dante's neck as he bowed his head in prayer, and she smiled. She would never believe in all this as he did, but she had to admit that he was right about something.

It really was nice to have just a little faith.