Journal Entry 8 - December 31st.
I think I'm finally starting to understand what people mean when they talk about Christmas feeling special. Back home, Christmas always felt exciting, of course, but here in Auralia it seems to stretch across the whole month.
Everywhere is decorated, but not in a flashy way. The flags are still hanging from houses, and alongside them are wreaths with dark green ribbons. The churches have lights around their entrances, and every evening you can hear choirs rehearsing somewhere nearby.
The first Sunday after we arrived, Mum took me to St. Mark's Church. I wore my church clothes for the first time. Standing in my room beforehand, fastening my collar and pulling on my black blazer, I felt strangely nervous. The Jonwin Wings were polished so brightly that I could almost see my reflection in them.
When we arrived, I noticed every boy looked almost exactly the same as me. The same black blazers, neat haircuts, polished shoes.
For a moment I felt awkward, worried I might somehow stand out anyway. But after a few minutes that feeling disappeared. Nobody was looking at me. Nobody cared that I was new. I was simply another boy in church.
The service itself was much longer than I was used to, but I enjoyed it more than I expected. The organ echoed through the building, and when everyone stood together to sing, it felt powerful somehow.
Afterward, several families introduced themselves. Everyone seemed to know we were newcomers. One man smiled and asked, "Looking forward to Northford, son?"
He laughed. "Good. Means you'll do fine."
That didn't really make sense at the time, but I've heard similar things from lots of adults since arriving.
Over the next week there seemed to be church events almost every few days. There was a carol service. Then a community choir evening. A candlelight service followed by a youth Christmas rehearsal.
Every time I wore my church clothes, I found myself becoming more comfortable in them. At first the collar felt stiff. Now it feels normal. The shoes felt unusual at first too, but now I almost like hearing them click softly across the pavement.
One evening after a service, I noticed several boys my age standing outside talking while their parents spoke nearby. I was too nervous to approach them and I stood with Mum instead. But one of them gave me a small nod as he walked past.
"See you at Northford." That was all he said. Yet somehow I spent the entire walk home thinking about it. For the first time, school stopped feeling completely unknown. It started feeling real.
Christmas eve was probably my favourite day so far. The whole neighbourhood seemed to slow down. People walked to church in family groups, all dressed properly despite the warm weather. The evening service was beautiful.
The church was packed. Candles glowed everywhere. The choir sang carols I had never heard before. For the first time since moving, I didn't feel like a visitor. I felt like I belonged there.
Christmas morning was different too. The presents were wonderful, but what surprised me most was how many of them seemed connected to the same ideas I've been seeing everywhere.
Books about explorers. Model aircraft. A Scout handbook. A polishing kit for my shoes. A proper wooden desk organiser. Even a small brass nameplate for my room door. Mum laughed when I spent nearly an hour arranging everything neatly on my shelves.
"You've changed already," she said.
Maybe she's right. I still miss things from home sometimes. I still find some parts of Auralia strange.
But I think I'm starting to understand why people here like things the way they are. There is something comforting about knowing where everything belongs.
The days between Christmas and New Year have been quiet. I've spent lots of time building model planes and reading.
Sometimes I sit at my desk and look at the row of shoes beneath my wardrobe. The Jonwin Steps get worn every day. The Jonwin Wings have become familiar now too. But my eyes keep drifting to the others. The school shoes and the Scout shoes. The uniforms hanging above them, everything ready. Like they’re waiting for me.
School doesn't start for another week, with scouts begin the week after that. Part of me is nervous every time I think about it. What if I get lost? What if I don't know the rules? What if everybody else already knows each other?
But another part of me feels excited. I find myself imagining walking through the school gates for the first time. wearing my Northford blazer, my tie. The Jonwin Loops.
I kind of liked the idea of looking like every other boy there. Not having to wonder whether I'm dressed correctly because I'll already know.
The same thing happens when I think about Scouts. Sometimes I even take the Lorcam Edges out of their box and look at them. Not because I need to. Just because I like knowing they're there. Ready.
Everything here seems to work like that. Preparation. Routine. Order.
When I arrived, all of it felt overwhelming. Now it feels reassuring. Tomorrow is New Year's Day. Then January begins. Then school and Scouts. Then whatever comes next.
I'm still nervous. Very nervous, actually. But for the first time since we arrived, I think I'm excited too. If somebody had told me that two weeks ago, I'm not sure I would have believed them.
