Such a makeshift, frustrating but I suppose potentially blessed Advent season. I am sleeping in a recliner in the little office by the front door, in the same room as the small live Blue Spruce Christmas Tree. Thank God for that Tree! I insisted that Freya find a live tree to replace the one that had died quite dramatically as I lay in hospital and then in a rehabilitation facility after my first operation in June. I vowed I would not come home to a dead tree after the 2nd operation and finally, finally, it came to pass. The poor dead tree was carted away and a little baby Blue Spruce took its place.
Early, yes, for Christmas, having been placed in the corner before the Thanksgiving festival, but my operation was scheduled for the day before Thanksgiving. My main focus that week before I went into hospital was the TREE, stringing lights on it with the reluctant help of Freya and making certain it had a bit of water to prevent it from following its predecessor into an early grave.
I was wise to make these preparations, as I am still unable to stand at all. I can walk fairly well with a zimmerframe/walker, but I cannot stand. Trimming the little Tree therefore is extremely difficult.
It has been extremely disappointing to discover that Freya does not like the trappings of Christmas much, does not take any joy in decorating and recently confessed that she does not even like dolls now. She loved them as a child... they remain one of my great loves and it is sad not to be able to share that with my only child.
Each Christmas as a child, my sister and I received a new doll. Most of the time, it really did not belong to us, in the sense of having any control over the doll or being able to play with him or her freely. My Mum was a collector and the dolls usually were stashed away fairly soon in a cabinet somewhere. Nonetheless, finding a new doll under the Tree was a thrilling experience.
We did not have any money really. If my Mum could not afford a new doll, she would make a new outfit for a doll that we had. One for my doll and one for my sister's doll... the dolls would disappear mysteriously from our room a few days before Christmas and appear under the Tree on Christmas morning clad in new frocks. My favourite was a llittle frock made from fabric with a pattern of cherries on it. She made that one for my Wendy Doll.
Vicki had a Ginny by Vogue and I had a Wendy by Madame Alexander. Both were the same size. They were 8 inches in height and both were 'girl dolls' rather than fashion dolls, adults or infants. These dolls were not relegated to a display case or closet. They were the dolls with which we played regularly.
We were a very international family in terms of our holiday traditions even though our heritage was Northern European. Both my sister and I continue to celebrate all sorts of ethnic festivals.
One of the most beautiful festivals of the Advent Season is that of Santa Lucia. She was a saint from Sicily but the Scandinavians adopted her and the traditions now associated with her are the ancient traditions associated with the Goddess Freya.
Santa Lucia was a virgin saint. She is depicted dressed in a long white gown with a red sash, wearing a crown on which garlands of evergreens, red berries and white candles have been set. The candles are lit. She is, in effect, the Goddess of Light.
During a famine in Sweden, St. Lucia appeared in a boat laden with food, wearing her crown of light. She saved the people of the land.... this, of course, is Freya, the Goddess of Fertility and Plenty.
One of the traditions in Sweden is that the eldest daughter of the house dresses as St. Lucia on the morning of her festival and brings a tray with a special breakfast to her parents.
I always wanted a St. Lucia doll but never had one until a very good friend sent me the American Girl doll, Kirsten with the St. Lucia outfit one Christmas. Every year, I set her out on the festival of St. Lucia.
I knew where she was, but I cannot climb stairs yet, and all my decorations are either upstairs or downstairs. I told Freya where she was and asked her to fetch the doll a few days ago. She claimed to be unable to find her. Yesterday, I begged her once again and this time, she did return with the doll. I suppose she realised I would continue to ask her to search until she finally opened her eyes and made a serious effort.
So now I have my St. Lucia... . I did find a damaged St. Lucia Ginny doll by Vogue some time ago. I had intended to try to repair her but that is impossible at this point in time so instead, I took one of my own Ginny dolls out of her raingear outfit and redressed her as St. Lucia. She looks rather wonderful I must say. I am quite happy about it. She may not be a 'new' doll under the Christmas tree this year, but she is a doll with a new outfit, so the old family tradition is being followed still.
As a young girl, I delighted in the world of the imagination, in books and their beautiful illustrations... in artists like Arthur Rackham and Sulamith Wulfing. John Cole's Bookshop always had a marvelous selection of cards and books from Europe featuring these artists... now, sadly, John Cole's is gone. Sulamith Wulfing is dead and the reprints of her books are now out of print... I could not afford them when they were published and now the prices have leapt through the ceiling. Fortunately, one can find a few illustrations on the internet, but I dearly would love to have the books.
