It was difficult slipping into the thought of Advent, after our return from Thanksgiving with the grandchildren and family. I was savoring the memories without giving much thought to the Season of Advent which began on the evening we returned home.
This weekend I knew I must prepare for Advent--I'm a week behind after all. And if it was living up to Maine's being "the pine tree state," it meant getting out there and cutting some boughs for a wreath. The purple bow, a reminder of the Advent Season, will be changed up for Christmas.
This Sunday there was a desire to attend Mass at the cathedral. It's the marble altar, the purple and rose candles, the stained-glass windows, the white and gold walls, the mosaic stations of the cross; it's the sound of the organ and the choir; quite frankly, it's everything in the Mass that appeals to the senses. And yes, it's that "waiting" that you and everyone around must do.
My parents would leave us with my grandparents while they tended to some Christmas shopping--they knew they could better accomplish what they needed to without having three little ones in tow. One of my favorite spots in my grandparent's house was a window seat that looked out on Main Street. I would sit there a bit lost in time as I watched and waited for my parent's car to round the corner. There was never any doubt in my mind that they would be back sometime soon and then, there was a joy that came with anticipating their return. It's a stretch maybe, but sitting at Mass this second Sunday in Advent Season was much like sitting once again in my grandparent's window seat--there's that joyful waiting, with ne'er a doubt. Advent is here.
