On that trip that my mother made to our home in late November or early December 1984, she brought my son a gift she had made herself—an Advent calendar in the shape of a wreath.
For those who don’t know, an Advent calendar helps children count the days until Christmas to build their anticipation (as if most kids need their anticipation of that magical holiday increased). Although it’s called an “Advent” calendar and Advent doesn’t always begin on December 1, these calendars typically run from December 1 through December 24, so it has twenty-four days.
These calendars come in many shapes and formats. With a paper Advent calendar, the child typically opens a little window labeled with the day (December 1, 2, etc.) to see a symbol of Christmas. Some Advent calendars are religious and their symbols focus on the crib and manger scene, or there are Bible verses inside the windows. Others are secular and depict Santa Claus and various toys and holiday foods.
Some look like typical calendars, with the days of the week lined up in seven columns. Others have random windows scattered across the front, and part of the fun is searching for the correct number to open.
The Advent calendar my mother made was green felt decorated with red holly berries. She had embroidered the holly design on the wreath. Rather than windows to open for each day, her Advent calendar came with a bag of twenty-four Christmas symbols, each also made of felt and embroidered with the holiday design. One emblem was to be Velcroed on the wreath each day in December. When the bag was empty, it would be Christmas.
My son was not yet three at the time. The concept of picking just one decoration a day did not appeal to him—he wanted to do them all at once. So he and my mother spent hours together picking the little ornaments out of the bag and sticking them on the wreath. Over and over again they put them on and took them off to go back in the bag. At least it kept him busy during the week that Mother was potty-training him.
We still have that Advent calendar my mother made, though it’s been many years since my children had any interest in sticking the ornaments on the wreath. It doesn’t take up much room, and I imagine I will keep it until I have a grandchild to give it to. Then, I hope whichever one of my children is the parent will continue this tradition—or invite me to be the grandma who plays with the Velcro toy. And I hope we’ll talk about my mother, who would have loved to have known her great-grandchild and to know another generation enjoyed her handiwork.
What family heirlooms do you hope to pass on to later generations?
