Dark. Cold. Dreary. Not at all what I am used to in November. Well, maybe a little; like the cold part, for example. This month is thoroughly soaked in rain and wind, and I was astonished to hear from my aunt that “We have had excellent weather this fall.” Huh? It’s not horrible; with the right hat and mittens and knitted scarf it’s even bearable, but I’m still taking my time to adjust to the light or, rather, the lack thereof.

As I was buttoning my coat two Mondays ago to leave my French class at 1600 (4 p.m.), I made a comment, almost to myself, that went something like “How do you people stand all this darkness?” At the time, I was staring out of the window of the classroom to the building across the schoolyard, at least I think it was a building, because all I could see were lit windows. My teacher looked at me and said the most reassuring thing (not) I had heard so far this year: “Oh, the dark? It gets much worse you know – this is nothing.” She saw my face and realized she had not said the right thing, but she remembered I had actually posed a question and then tried to answer it in a more positive way. “Well, we Swedes stay happy during December by celebrating all month.” Aha!

Of course, she was right. I thought of all the holidays in December, and there were quite a few that came to mind. For a Scandinavian country like Sweden, where the light disappears in the winter, light is so very important. Not only important, the light is inspiring, symbolic of hope more than ever before, and it’s a beauty like your eyes and soul have never experienced. No wonder most of December’s celebrating has to do with light.

Like the one coming up – Advent. Now I found out last year that this is not just a Lutheran tradition but something practiced by Catholic churches as well. Advent is celebrated, the first time, on the fourth Sunday before Christmas. Our family always celebrated it on Sunday mornings; we would all be asleep (except for my mom) and she woke us all up so that we could all eat breakfast together and see the first of the four candles lit. The other four wait until their Sunday comes; for every Sunday after the first of Advent until Christmas a candle is lit. The candles are held in a rectangle box like holder with holes for the candles.

I think our family celebrates it differently, though. I always thought that Advent was a special thing, and I loved being present to see the candles lit. When I was a kid, though, I always felt bad for the other three candles that didn’t get lit on the first of Advent. Then, when the third candle was lit, it felt like a scene at school so many are familiar with – you know, when teams are picked for a game and one person is left out. I always felt bad for the lonely candle.

As I got older, it wasn’t the candle I felt sorry for, it was me, actually. Not to be selfish but, after the first of Advent and it’s the second Sunday, my mom comes into my room as I’m peacefully and happily sleeping and says “I’m lighting the Advent candles now in case you’re interested to join me.” I’m a light sleeper and, if I’ve slept well and went bed at a decent hour, I get up and go directly to the kitchen table for a pleasant breakfast with my family. If it’s not been a great night and I’m still tired, my first thought is always: “No!!! Light the candle yourself! Let me sleep!!” However, there is no way I could ever miss the lighting of the Advent candles, and I would feel too guilty that I missed such an important family event. Why we get up so early, I’m not so sure, but our family’s so weird, it’s just not worth thinking about.

A friendly hello from a friend far away,

Angelika