Convent Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Tis the week before Christmas

and all through the Convent,

Not a thing seems different.

Can it really be Advent?

(Oh yeah? You try rhyming convent. Wiseacre.)

As you might expect, the All Saints sisters don't buy in to the commercialism of the holidays. No lights are strung, no wreaths adorn doors. There's no tree decorated with ornaments and tinsel, and no garland on the mantel.

There's not even a trace of a blow up lawn ornament waving in the wind at the entrance to the chapel.

There is one addition to the altar- a lush, fragrant Advent wreath with fresh greens and candles as thick as my wrist.

Also present is a contemplative silence, heightened by a profound anticipation.





At the end of this week the sisters will assemble a cresh in the nave of the chapel. Constructed of wood and straw, the cresh conveys in the simplest way one of the most complex miracles of the Christian faith.

Both my house and the house at All Saints share the emotion of anticipation- theirs for the coming of the Christ child, and my kids' anticipation of their own Christmas miracles- an Ipod Touch for LB, the first season of Modern Family for Trouble, and the entire clothing inventory of Anthropologie for Oldest.

My husband anticipates an oxygen tank and a walker, as he will likely require these items after practically painting the entire house in the last week. I anticipate 50 family members descending upon our house on Christmas Eve.

I hope to be mindful of the simple message of peace and serenity offered by my friends at the convent as I rush headlong through the upcoming days.

Happy, Happy Holidays to all of my blog world friends.

"Maybe Christmas," he thought,
"doesn't come from a store.
Maybe Christmas… perhaps…
means a little bit more."
                                            Dr. Seuss