Saturday, December 6, 2008

advent...



And so begins another month, the one we count down day by day until the arrival of Christmas and then after that, through the end of yet another year. So often that countdown is filled with stress and to-do lists, a thousand different activities that require us to double-book our evenings, living our lives in a caravan from place to place so that no gift goes unpurchased, no house unvisited.

Yet looking back to the Christmases of my childhood, it is no wonder that it is still my favorite time of year and the treasure trove of some of my happiest days and my favorite tradition {which I will divulge in a moment}. But first, the backstory...

I was born and raised in Florida and for the majority of my life, my maternal grandparents lived with us. And while in my minds' eye I can still see snapshots of the house in Deerfield Beach, all decorated for Christmas, the years that I remember the most vividly are from when we moved to Orlando shortly after I turned five.

We always had artificial trees, which was fine because that meant we could have more than one and that we could put it up the weekend after Thanksgiving and leave everything up until after the New Year {but never later than Epiphany on January 6th}. Being a native Floridian, it wasn't until we moved north that I could really comprehend what the season felt like with real trees, flurries, and having a nice fire to roast chestnuts on.

Anyway, shortly after we had moved, my brother and I were each given a tiny tree that was maybe 12" for our rooms that only held one strand of twenty lights and little miniature ornaments made from wood. They were simple little things, really. Tiny angels made out of wooden shapes, the cookie dough ornaments you could have personalized at the mall with your name and the year, those little craft teddy bears and birds. There was a strict rule that the lights could not stay on once we went to bed, with the exception of Christmas Eve.

As we got older, we were able to add ornaments until eventually the trees were replaced with larger ones { 3' table top }. By the time I was twelve, mine had ornaments in shades of pink and lavender, spun glass, and an icicle garland. {I think it was just a cry for some snow!} Marshall's had dinosaurs, tin soldiers, trains and bubble lights. In fact, we both have all our childhood things packed away in storage. Just can't bear to part with them.

My mother was mostly a stay-at-home mother in those years, dealing in antiques with her best friend at a local shop. With her at the helm, the season was always magical. One year, we had NINE trees {two large ones and seven in various sizes}.

I could not comprehend that much work with two children, but between my grandmother and she the halls seemed to be decked in no time at all. On top of the trees in our rooms, there were trees in the family and living room, and a small countertop tree in the kitchen with antique glass ornaments and twisted tin "icicles". Then my grandparents had a pencil tree in their bedroom and my parents had a "memory tree" in theirs. It would be hung with the treasures of our family - a silver baby cup, my great-uncles lace baby cap, a pair of my great-grandmother's chandelier earrings - and photographs of those no longer with us. The dining room had a topiary tree with fruit and gold drops, and finally... Grandfather's favorite, the ceramic tree with the little color bulbs that sat atop the console television.

But more than any of the decorations, what holds the most special place in my heart was our advent. On December 1st, we would wake up to find that our stockings had been hung up in a corner of the living room. There was no fireplace, so each hung from the drawer of a large hutch, at just the perfect height for a five year old. I had searched online for an image of what our stockings looked like {as they are also packed up in storage} but came up empty handed.

Our stockings did not look like stockings at all. Marshall's was in the shape of a toy soldier with a large drum and mine was a soft-bodied doll complete with dark curls, dress, apron and cap. The pockets were concealed in their outfits, so if one did not notice the small plastic hooks stitched at the top so they could be hung, one might not think they were anything more than toys. In guesstimation, they were probably about 16" in size. But I digress...

Spilling out from each pocket would be long strands of red and green curling ribbon. At the end of each strand was a perfectly crafted miniature tag {at most 1/4" square} that Mother had made for each. Looking back at it, I marvel at the time and effort she took to make each one something special. Every morning after breakfast we were allowed {with supervision} to go to our stockings and pull the streamer for the appropriate day and from the pocket would emerge a treasure.

Sometimes it would be a small piece of chocolate we could have later for a snack {or I could take to school in my lunch}, or a small little trinket, or a piece of rolled paper that held a clue on where to look for something larger. I can still recall how giddy I was to look under the couch and find a coloring book about Christmas around the world and a set of those crayon pencils that were so popular in the 80's.

Every night before bed there would be an addition to bedtime prayers in the form of singing a carol or reading a Christmas story.

The Neapolitan Baroque Creche at the Metropolitan Museum in NYC

advent: n. a coming into place, view or being; arrival;
a momentous event that has been awaited;
the season including the four Sundays before Christmas

And while it is so easy to let the focus slip from what is the center of the of it all... dare I even say it, the "reason for the Season"... that's what has me humming one of my favorite carols of all. {I've included the lyrics for you below.}

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O Come Divine Messiah

O come, divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.

Dear Savior haste;
Come, come to earth,
Dispel the night and show your face,
And bid us hail the dawn of grace.

O come, divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.

O Christ, whom nations sigh for,
Whom priest and prophet long foretold,
Come break the captive fetters;
Redeem the long-lost fold.

Dear Savior haste;
Come, come to earth,
Dispel the night and show your face,
And bid us hail the dawn of grace.

O come, divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.

You come in peace and meekness,
And lowly will your cradle be;
All clothed in human weakness
Shall we your Godhead see.

Dear Savior haste;
Come, come to earth,
Dispel the night and show your face,
And bid us hail the dawn of grace.

O come, divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.
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{ Photos courtesy of Flickr }

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