Himmelfahrt

I didn’t realize it before I moved to Germany, but the English language has some words that are kind of holy. They're words you almost whisper when you say them, because they're frought with so much meaning.

Like one day in March there’s a holiday for when Mary, Jesus’ mother, rose up to heaven. It’s called Anunciation Day, or the Feast of the Annunciation. Repeat that in your head a few times: Annunciation Day. Feast of the Annunciation. You kind of whisper it, right? It's soft, like cotton candy. It's so cool you're kind of in awe. Imagine it: picture a radiant Mary floating up to heaven as her flaxen robe swirls around her in slow motion, as chubby angels gaze in wonder and silvery stars glitter like they know that this is a special day.

In Germany, the Annunciation has a slightly different name: Himmelfahrt.

Like most German words, this train wreck breaks down into separate bits: “himmel” means sky, and “fahrt” means trip. So instead of that glorious Annunciation, the Mother of God takes a sky trip.

All of a sudden it doesn’t seem so majestic, right? It's kind of lost that "sacred" feel. In fact, now it sounds like an amusement park ride. Now you see Mary holding onto a roll bar and screaming, "Oh SHIT!" while a cherub sitting next to her throws up.

If there are holy words in German, I haven't found them. And I’m not even going to touch on the fact that “himmelfahrt” sounds like a painful bodily function, because you will definitely go to hell if you picture Mary flying around that way.