Thus it came to pass on the eve of the twentieth day of March, in the year of our reckoning, that the brethren of Lodge St. Olaf gathered for the final convocation of their season. And lo, it had been a season of great prosperity, marked by a steady influx of seekers of the Craft, each yearning for the light of wisdom. With each passing moon, the Lodge flourished, its numbers swelled by men of good standing who, with earnest heart and steady hand, took upon themselves the duties of office and the burdens of learning. In this way did the Lodge stand unshaken, its foundation firm, and its halls bright with the voices of the faithful.
On this fateful night, the work of the hour was the Raising of Brother Andrew Crawley to the august Degree of Master Mason. The Lodge, as was its custom, was filled to the rafters with the fellowship of many a devoted soul. Yet, such was the station of the evening’s work that eight among them, not yet prepared to behold the solemnities of the Third Degree, withdrew in obedience to the ancient rule. Nevertheless, the fervor of these young initiates was plain to see, their hunger for knowledge keen and their dedication to the Order unwavering. Truly, it was a sight to warm the hearts of those who had long walked the path of masonry.
A boon of honor was bestowed upon the gathering by the presence of the Right Worshipful Provincial Grand Master, Brother David Wemyss. With words of great measure, he spoke of the diligence and devotion displayed by those who labored in the evening’s rites. His praise was not lightly given, nor undeserved, for all who took part in the work of the Lodge that night had shown skill and reverence befitting the noblest traditions of their station.
Yet though the season had drawn to its appointed close, the spirit of the brethren knew no rest. They looked with keen anticipation to the labors and joys that awaited them in the days ahead. Ere long, a party of their number would embark upon a visitation to the venerable Fraserburgh Lodge of Freemasons No. 1055, where a Fellow Craft of St. Olaf’s own would ascend to the Master’s rank. And what great expectations lay upon the horizon for the coming of Super Saturday on the nineteenth day of April! Though its precise course was yet to be charted, it was whispered among the brethren that many a Fellow Craft would take that mighty step upon the ladder of wisdom and be raised into the light of Mastery.
Beyond these solemn labors, there would yet be merriment, as is the way of all good and true men. A gathering of kindred spirits was set for the twenty-eighth of March, wherein a test of skill and fortune would be had upon the tables of chance at the Lodge’s Poker Night. And as the summer sun waxed high, the brethren would embark upon their annual Sabbatical, their journey this year leading them to Perth Races on the seventh and eighth days of June, where they would find sport and fellowship in equal measure.
Thus was the tale of Lodge St. Olaf written on this night of high purpose and good cheer. And though the season had drawn its final breath, the hearts of the brethren burned yet with the fire of their Craft, eager for the days to come. Watch well the signs, O faithful ones, and heed the tidings upon the Lodge’s WhatsApp, for even in the quiet of the closed season, the bonds of brotherhood endure, strong as the stones of the mountains and steadfast as the stars in the heavens.
