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You can’t force Christmas spirit—especially not when you work at Ashampoo! For us, November and December are traditionally particularly hectic: The old year needs to be reviewed and the new one planned, leaving little time for reflection or festive feelings. So, over the weekend, I grabbed my better half so we could get ourselves into the holiday mood at a big Christmas market. But of course, it didn’t turn out to be that simple.
Arriving at the Christmas market, we first had to collect ourselves. Countless LED lights created festive splendor, everything was decorated to excess, as if someone had calculated the formula for maximum holiday magic per square meter. We maneuvered our way through the crowd between strollers, elder couples, and large families. More than 100 booths, masses of evergreens, strings of lights and ribbons created a subtle kind of sensory overload. Just a few steps later, the first bottleneck appeared as crowds collided and everybody came to a standstill. After a somewhat laborious loop past endless food stands and plenty of “handicrafts” made in China, we’d had enough. Many people seemed to enjoy the hustle and bustle, we certainly didn’t.
So we trudged home through the cold, a bit disillusioned, and were already stepping through the front door into the warmth when one last idea came to me. A small Christmas market just outside the city was open for only two days and operating on a very modest scale. I used to live there, it was only a 20-minute drive, so we got back into the car and headed out. As we saw the first village lights, Bing Crosby was wistfully singing his “White Christmas.”
We parked not far from the Christmas market, walked a few steps through the darkness, and reached the small park where the booths had been set up. A few tent canopies were stretched high above the visitors between the trees, and the sparse lighting only hinted at the dense canopy of leaves above us. Soft music drifted in the background, neighbors chatted cheerfully over mulled wine, and an irresistible scent lured me to my first piece of cake. It felt different—more personal. The youth handball team worked the waffle irons, local women offered their homemade treats, and anyone who enjoyed crafting at home proudly sold their little creations.
On a covered stage, a young brass ensemble from the community had gathered, its members glancing around nervously. When they launched into their performance with great enthusiasm, my first thought was of the trumpets of Jericho—but somehow it wasn’t bad at all. You could feel their excitement, see the pride in their families’ faces, and after a little while, you could even recognize “Sweetly the Bells Are Ringing.” We continued on, bought honey from the region, befriended an enormous dog, and ate far more than we had planned. As the first booths closed, we happily made our way back to the car—Christmas had arrived.
I wish you a Merry Christmas, a joyful start into the new year, and a wonderful 2026! Wherever you’re reading these lines, take some time for yourself, hug a few loved ones who truly deserve it, and may you enter the new year with good health and happy feelings.
