I am reminded today–the first Sunday of Advent–of those advent wreaths of childhood. We would light them and say the prayers in lieu of our regular pre-meal prayer. The wreath, made of evergreens had four candles, 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 brother. He would have only one candle to light.
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 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 