I had grown up with a felt calendar which my grandmother had made for our family. It was so exciting to take turns every day pulling each new ornament out of its numbered pocket and finding the perfect spot to snap it on the tree. Each ornament had its own explanation, which we read from the little booklet disguised as a present under the felt tree. It was so perfect for children.
So, that first year we were in Boston, I cut and glued and sequined and sewed and glued some more and ironed and stitched and assembled until I had our very own Advent Calendar, complete with a booklet of explanations that fit inside a present-shaped pocket.
All the while, I was thinking about our children. Praying for them, and imagining they would be as excited as I used to get to when it was my turn to snap an ornament on the tree. As I was gluing and stitching and sewing, I thought to myself, "maybe we'll have a baby this time next year" and our journey as parents could, at last, begin...
That was three years ago. I have made many other things for our children since then. And I will continue to do so, even if we are never blessed with Children who Live with us. And each year, we've faithfully snapped our way to Christmas on our Annie-made calendar, reading the explanations to each other, even though they are written to young children.
Every day, I think about our children and I hope that, someday, I can watch their sweet little fingers pick the shape out of the pocket and press it *snap* onto the tree. Maybe they'll ask me "who made Our Lovely Calendar," and "were they thinking about us as they did?" They were, my dears. They were.
Advent is a season of hope. It's the season of the year when the Church proclaims the awe-some mystery of a Child who came to Live with us. We count down the days until He comes because we are so excited to see Him. We can't wait!
Though still, we must wait. And we do.
But not without Hope. Never without Hope.
|From Christmastime is Here|