Santa Lucia Day

Have you ever gone to bed at night knowing that you'd be a bit of a disappointment the next day? Not that the next day would be disappointing, but that you would be disappointing? That's what happened to me last night.

My husband Grant is the youngest of three brothers. And he is of Swedish descent. These might seem like really random things, but today they are of significance. The 13th of December is Santa Lucia Day - the day when the oldest daughter in the family brings coffee and saffron St. Lucia buns to her parents in bed, all while wearing a white gown and a wreath with lit candles on her head.

Grant has known about this tradition for a long time, but with only boys in his nuclear family, there were never early-morning-saffron buns carried by very careful young women in their house when he was growing up.

He dropped hints last week, reminding me that St. Lucia day was drawing near. While St. Lucia day is remembered throughout Scandinavia, it is really big in Sweden, and not so much in my family's Norwegian heritage. And so I forgot. Until last night. (Not that I'd have gotten up to make saffron buns this morning, or worn candles on my head, anyway - the whole downstairs of our house is packed up so we can get new flooring put in. And I hate the smell of burning hair in the morning).

So - maybe next year.

And in the meantime - a blessed St. Lucy day.

The light DOES shine in the darkness, and the darkness has not (and never will) understood or overcome it.