Traditions

No, this is not a post about "Fiddler on the Roof." It is about Christmas traditions. Christmas is so important to me, and I think one of the main reasons it is is my grandparents. They started traditions with me when I was very young. In fact, I can't remember when most of these started. They've just always been a part of my Christmas season. Each one has brought joy to me, so I thought that I would try to share one each day as we approach Christmas. Now, I can't promise I'll blog everyday, but I'm sure going to try.
Tradition Number 1: ADVENT CALENDARS
My grandmother on my mother's side, from hereon referred to as "Gram", always got my sister and me an advent calendar. We usually argued about who would get to open door number 24. Now, if you don't know what an advent calendar is, you are missing out. It is usually made of paper and there is a holiday themed picture on it. Punched into the picture are doors numbering from 1 to 24. You open 1 door, each day, starting on December 1st and ending on December 24th. It was usually bought from Cokesbury Bookstore, a Christian bookstore downtown on Grace Street. It has now been turned into apartments. Each year my sister, Jenna, and I would wonder what the calendar would be like. We had many throughout the years, some had a religious basis with a nativity scene pictured or Santa's Workshop, or one year we had the Peanuts characters. The most interesting one we ever had was a huge poster of a nativity scene and parts of the picture were numbered and you were supposed to color your number each day. I don't think Jenna and I ever finished that one. It doesn't really matter. It was all about the countdown, the building of excitement to the "Big Day". Granted, as little children, it was a lot more about Santa Claus and all that Christmas morning brings than Baby Jesus, but it did help me to prepare for the season.
As I grew older and out on my own, Gram still got me an Advent calendar every year until she was no longer able to get out to do so. I still opened the doors (truth be told, sometime 4 or 5 at a time because I let the day go by and I would forget), but there was still the anticipation. It's coming, it's coming! Those words as a child were exciting and filled with wonder and hope. As an adult they sometimes ring with dread and anxiety, It's coming, it's coming. I'm not ready, I don't have enough time. I don't have enough money. My goal, this year, is to fill those words with hope and excitement again and to really try to focus on what I am anticipating and waiting for, to remember a tiny baby born in a stable on a bed of hay surrounded by the animals so I could be saved.