To stumble upon a World figure

Lucy and I had just made our way through the Christmas market in Alexanderplatz, one of many throughout Germany. What was once an empty lot now homed shops that tended to your holiday indulgences. Stalls catered to interests’ alike—beer and spirits, handcrafted goods and traditional German delicacies- I could feel the cold melt away at the sip of mulled wine. The air itself seemed to carry a tune commemorating the event.

From the distance I spotted a magnificent structure subtlety masked by light, inviting passersby’s to come hither with its gothic charm—or so it appeared. We swept around a far off corner en route for the front entrance, which to our dismay was locked.

Our sudden curiosity to visit had arrived thirty minutes pass the closing time. I recall the scowl that fixed upon my face; I remained standing, captivated only from what the present hour permitted.

My attention hovered towards the rear of the church where a stream of light welcomed in a growing crowd, Lucy and I adding to its numbers.

We were handed brochures before being gestured to an empty pew, the view breathtaking. The room itself was so elaborate I did not know where to set my gaze. Walls stood with meticulously carved columns and vibrant glass windows showcasing biblical events. To the far left rested a piano that would bring tears to the eyes of Bach himself. And its ceiling allowed plump figures to manifest with musical instruments.

Overwhelmed, I looked down at the now wrinkled brochure and on it read, “Memorial service for Nelson Mandela— what? —the only word that managed to escape my lips. I turned to Lucy in slight disbelief and said, we just walked into Nelson Mandela’s memorial service! Lucy as calm as always simply replied with an, oh. Seconds later she turned to share the same reaction.

The cathedral choir bellowed a heavenly song, onlookers prompted to sing along to hymns in their native tongue. Words of respect and praise were heavily noted, while moments were left for reflection. From beginning to end the service instilled a sense of comfort and unity. Through friends and family of Mandela to those who relate to his life’s philosophy, I found myself amongst people from all walks of life sharing this precious occasion.

Lucy and I allowed our curiosity to carry us, never to the wildest of imagination in coming upon such a spectacle. We never did get to the top of the Berlin Cathedral but not many can say I attended Nelson Mandela’s memorial service, by accident.