I am reminded today–the first Sunday of Advent–of those advent wreaths of childhood. We had wreath made of some fake evergreens that were nothing to write home about, but for us they represented the excitement and anticipation of the Advent season. We would light them and say the prayers in lieu of our regular pre-meal prayer. The evergreen wreath, had four candles, three were purple and one was pink, and we were four children. Each week of Advent, we would take turns lighting the candle(s) for the week.
The first week would be our youngest member. He would have only one candle to light (purple). Then my next brother (two purple). Then me (two purple and one pink), and then my older sister (three purple and one pink). The prayers were written on a mimeographed (google that if you don’t know what it is) sheet which presumably came from the church.
It was a special time. The candle was allowed to burn during the entirety of the meal, and with each bite of dinner, we looked forward, anticipating. Christmas was the time of year when the difficulties we faced as children growing up without a father would dissipate for awhile, and we would embrace the glory and magic of Christmas. The baby was coming, and He would be the Savior of the whole world. Glory to God!
Rooted and Grounded 