The tree has been up for two days, and we already have a casualty.
Poor Joseph. Stripped from his broken, once cozy, bell-shaped abode. Pried loose by the determined fingers of a curious 3 year old. The same curiosity and determination that unhinged the bell ornament; a gift from my sister’s years ago trip to Rome.
It’s just a thing.
But it’s a pretty thing, a unique thing, and her carelessness made me angry.
Her carelessness makes me angry a lot, and I react.
My reaction on this early Advent afternoon was not Christ, but hers was. Listening to my own anger I knew: I am not peaceful. I am not waiting. I am not quiet. This is not Advent.
She took in my loud voice, then reached for a hug. She returned from banishment to her room with a smile and an “I’m sorny, Mom.” (No, I did not misspell.) She forgave. She moved on, ready for more decorating. More singing. More wondering. More preparing.
She is Advent.
Let go of things. Let go of anger. Let Advent BE in your home.