December 13, 2017
Wednesday
Rejoice, rejoice, take heart in the night, though dark the winter and cheerless.
The rising sun shall crown you with light, be strong and loving and fearless.
Love be our song and love our prayer and love be our endless story.
May God fill every day we share and bring us at last into glory.
— Marty Haugen, b. 1950
American composer of liturgical music
Hello again! Since my cheery post on the first day of Holidailies, I’ve been jingling, but not writing. I’ve been x-rayed, scanned, ultrasounded, EKG’d, and had a cardiac catheterization. No hidden anomalies in the structure of my heart have been revealed. I am now waiting for a date for my surgery to be determined.
“You’ll feel so much better after this is fixed,” they keep saying. But I feel great now. My depression has lifted, my thinking is less fuzzy than it was. But I do get tired. I’ve ordered gifts, and put up my Advent wreath, but I think that’s going to be it for fa-la-la.
Today is Saint Lucia Day. I didn’t bake today because Ron has been experimenting with a pie version of his sfratti, the Italian walnut-honey delight our daughter, Lynn, writes about here. (And do hop on over to give her some page views!) The house is full of enough gooey versions of this that I don’t need to add to the carbohydrate overload that is so tempting.
But I do want to remember the joy I have always taken in Saint Lucia Day. Here, from 2004 and the original version of this blog, a sweet memory, and a picture of Lynn at five.
Thank you for reading, so much, so often.
St. Lucia Day
December 13, 2004
MondayToday is St. Lucia Day, a feast day celebrated primarily in Sweden. A Wikipedia page has a good overview of the history of this fourth century Italian saint and how her name came to be associated with the observance of the start of winter. In one version of the saint’s life, Lucy is portrayed as a young woman from a prosperous family who converted to Christianity and then refused marriage to a pagan suitor. Because she refused to give up “the incorruptible treasure of her virginity†(a phrase known to Catholic schoolgirls thoughout the twentieth century), she was martyred by having her eyes plucked out and then her neck pierced by a sword. She is often depicted holding a plate with her eyes on it. More delicate renditions show her holding something like a small jewelry box. (I once thought that’s where she kept the incorruptible treasure.)
I came to know about Lucia Day at about the age of ten. A family friend had given me a book put out by UNICEF which showed children from member countries in some native garb and a short essay about their culture. The page about Sweden explained the custom of the oldest girl in a family dressed as the Lussibruden (the Lucy bride) in a white gown and red sash and wearing a crown of lighted candles on her head. She serves her parents a breakfast of cardamom rolls and coffee, and everyone celebrates that the darkness of winter is at its depth and the sun will now begin its journey back to summer. (In the old Julian calendar the solstice occurred on December 13.)
This spectacle captured my imagination and it gradually became part of my Christmas mythology. The year that Lynn was born, a woman named Pleasant Rowland founded a company that produced dolls featuring American girls from a number of immigrant cultures. One of them was Kirsten, a 19th-century Swedish girl. When Lynn was about four I bought the Kirsten doll and her St. Lucia Day paraphernalia. I also bought the girl-sized crown and made a white dress and sash for Lynn.
Above you see a picture of Lynn at 5 (1990) serving the cardamom rolls at my first holiday open house. (The shoes had been used a year earlier as part of her Dorothy of Oz costume.) I got her decked out like this for another few years, until she learned that a particular classmate would be accompanying his parents to the party and she said, “I’m not wearing that crown any more.†Now I place it on the table along with the Lucia-outfitted Kirsten doll and a heaping tray of the S-shaped cardamom rolls. That table also features the Three Favorite Cookies of my childhood, corn-flake cherry drops, Toll House cookies the way my mother made them (with all ingredients doubled except the chocolate, to save money), and sand tarts.
There have been times in my life when December was filled with darkness. Not only have I from time to time had personal sorrows at this season, I also am subject to Seasonal Affective Disorder, a form of depression that occurs at the onset of the dark days and can persist until spring. Some years the effects have been pronounced, even when conditions in my life were not complicating things. This is not one of them.
And so I take this Saint Lucia day to celebrate all the light that is in my life, and I leave my readers with words from one of my favorite modern Advent songs:
Rejoice, rejoice, take heart in the night, though dark the winter and cheerless.
The rising sun shall crown you with light, be strong and loving and fearless.
Love be our song and love our prayer and love be our endless story.
May God fill every day we share and bring us at last into glory.Happy St. Lucia Day.