Lara’s Christmas among Meat Eaters (3)

The table had been beautifully set. A discreetly embroidered tablecloth had been lying on it, accompanied by the matching serviettes and a service that was tailored to it. Candles were burning and it could all have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the dead animal on it. Lara suddenly had to swallow, even down her tears. „The festival of love is a festival of death, actually,“ she had thought, but not said it as she took her seat. „Very nice,“ she had heard her father say, „Now let’s say grace and then eat this wonderful bird together, which God in his wisdom gave us for food.“ Automatically everyone had folded their hands and lowered their eyes, while the master of the house said prayer. „Well, let’s start then,“ he explained and took over the carving, „Lara, you’ll have to eat that too, because we don’t have any extra sausages.“

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Lara’s Christmas among Meat Eaters (2)

Lara had had a queasy feeling from the start. Not that there was a special occasion. In fact, she should have been happy. In the days leading up to Christmas Eve, her mother kept asking her what a vegan eats and what she could cook. Lara had given her information more than willingly. The more they exchanged ideas, the more Lara got the impression that her mother actually enjoyed it. But her mother, who rightly bore her name Sophie, the wisdom, had always been a very open, unconventional person who was keen to experiment. She was more concerned about her father, who was very conservative and attached great importance to tradition. As did her brothers, who emulated their father in many ways. Accordingly, hesitantly she had entered her parents‘ apartment.

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Lara’s Christmas among Meat Eaters (1)

Lara was desperate. She felt as if her harmonious world, which had been so sheltered up until then, would collapse from one day to the next. No, actually within a few hours. And this world was her family, in which she had always felt safe and secure, her parents and her two brothers. But now this safety and security seemed to have shattered into a thousand shards, on which she had quite severely cut herself. And it was Christmas Eve that she had been looking forward to so much.

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What I dream of at Christmas

I sit by the window and look out into the dark night. Candlelight illuminates the room and the scents of Christmas fill it. Everything is calm, peaceful and solemn. As it should be, on Christmas Eve. The whole world seems alright because it’s the part that I can see. More is not accessible. There doesn’t seem to be more. But I know better People are still sleeping in tents, in refugee camps, because nobody wants them and they don’t know where they belong, children are being exploited and animals are being exploited. Especially animals. Lonely, abandoned, freezing, starving, imprisoned, abused. Whether humans or non-human animals, no exception is made. And although I know that so many forces are working to maintain this state, I dare to dream.

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The Christmas Miracle

Maria looked at the clock and was startled. „So late,“ she thought as she packed up the things she needed to visit her parents. It wasn’t a lot because she didn’t give normal gifts, as the saying goes, but homemade gifts. She liked the individuality and, above all, to think about what you could convert things into that you no longer needed yourself. She was convinced that she had made particularly beautiful pieces this year. Nevertheless, it was no coincidence that she delayed the moment of departure, actually until the last minute. Now she couldn’t wait any longer to go to her parents‘ house to celebrate Christmas with them.

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I see, I see what you don’t see and that is dead

A beautiful sunny day in the middle of December. The snow crunches underfoot. The geese chatter in the barn. People enter it, people they know, who have lovingly looked after them all their lives, that is, they have given the feed and cleaned out the barn. They are so-called happy geese that can be fattened with GMO-free feed and run around, have space and could build social structures. They came here as little babies and grew up here. All their lives they had seen nothing but this stable and pasture. What a joy when people visit them who take care of them. They run towards them, greet them warmly. How well the geese are doing compared to their fellow sufferers in intensive animal husbandry. After 12 weeks their neck is turned around. Not to mention those who are plucked alive or maltreated for the foie grass. The geese that run so eagerly after people here can live for 26 weeks. A huge increase considering that their life expectancy is 20 years.

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