Welcome to the Cottage Advent Calendar
Every day from December 1 - 24, you’ll receive an email for this year’s Advent calendar. The posts will be short essays - little spiritual “treats” of words - on seasonal themes from my work, written over the span of fifteen years. I pray each reflection will surprise you and shine light on your path.
Please share these daily posts with your friends.
TODAY’S reflection originally appeared in Patheos in 2012. December 6 is St. Nicholas Day, a day when gifting and wonder might be all the evidence we most need
Window 6
December 1964
I don’t know how long the house had been quiet, but I no longer heard the sound of reindeer hooves. Mommy told me that if I came out when Santa’s sleigh was on the roof, he would fly away and leave no presents.
I believed in Santa. Indeed, earlier that night, I had seen his sleigh flying through the sky. And, just a little while ago, there were those paw-steps above my bedroom. I snuggled under the blanket, pretending to be asleep.
I waited. Then came silence. Surely, I thought, Santa is gone now. What can it hurt to sneak out of my room and catch a glimpse of the tree?
I slipped out of bed. The floor didn’t feel cold. My toes were swaddled in footie-pajamas. I padded through the dark house toward the living room. When I opened the door, the soft lights of the Christmas tree made the modest space appear a fairyland. And the gifts! Piles of presents wrapped in colorful paper and tied with sparkly ribbons. Stockings full of candy! Our little house was transformed by silence and light, by the promise of what was to come.
I sat down on the floor transfixed. I don’t know how long I was there. Indeed, I may have fallen asleep in front of the tree, or perhaps I was lost in wonder. “What are you doing up?” I heard my mother say, half surprised, a little irked, but mostly gently. “I heard Santa,” I said, pointing to the boxes. “Ah,” she replied. “He’s come. Just like he promised.” I bobbed my head. “Now to back to bed,” she said. “We will open the gifts in the morning. Go now.”
Years later, my mother told me that I had almost caught her putting gifts under the tree. That, of course, would have spoiled it. At five, I would have discovered that there was no Santa.
But that isn’t what happened. I believed in Santa. I was a fervent believer. I told everyone in kindergarten how I’d seen the sleigh, how I’d heard the reindeer paws, how the room was lit as if by magic. Santa was real, I assured my friends. I believe and you should, too.
Looking back, I suspect that the sleigh was an evening flight, an airliner in the night sky. And the reindeer paws? Well, that was my dad and mom in the attic above my room where the gifts were hidden. Every Christmas Eve, they would go up there with sleigh bells, acting the part of the reindeer to scare us children into staying put in bed while they moved the presents downstairs. At the time, however, these things proved that Santa existed.
Evidence is a funny thing. We read evidence through the stories we know. Thus, airplanes become sleighs and parents’ footsteps reindeer paws. Evidence can be so convincing; we can be so certain. About Santa. About almost anything really.
I suppose that some people would say that it is the same with God. When we are little, we interpret the evidence through the story of Jesus or God. But, when we grow up, we find it isn’t so. That it was an airplane or attic mischief all the time. Put away childish things and get on with it. Stop believing.
But I learned something that night when I was five years old. It wasn’t really about the evidence. Believing is about something much different than proof. What remains all these years later is the sense of wonder—the intense experience of joy when I opened the door to the living room and saw the tree pulsing with light. That Christmas Eve, our mundane living room appeared transformed; it was as if I had tumbled out of some sleepy half-existence into an unexpected world, a place of beauty and splendor. The ordinary became extraordinary, and the little house on Westfield Avenue was the doorway of heaven. Who knew?
A five-year old girl. That’s who. And, from that moment on, I was a believer.
From Patheos, December 3, 2012
Once again St. Nicholas Day
Has even come to our hideaway;
It won't be quite as fun, I fear,
As the happy day we had last year.
Then we were hopeful, no reason to doubt
That optimism would win the bout,
And by the time this year came round,
We'd all be free, and safe and sound.
Still, let's not forget it's St. Nicholas Day,
Though we've nothing left to give away.
We'll have to find something else to do:
So everyone please look in their shoe!?
— Anne Frank, Diary of a Young Girl
This St. Nicholas Day quote is from Anne Frank, the Jewish girl who wrote in the midst of great suffering and fear in the Holocaust. I find her words - about a Christian holy day - tender, haunting, and deeply truthful about God’s presence, care, and love.
A Season of Gifts
The Cottage ADVENT CALENDAR is free and open to all. If you feel called to financially contribute to this work, there are two special ways to support The Cottage this December.
1. Give a gift subscription of The Cottage to a friend! An entire year of encouragement, thoughtful essays on faith and culture, seasonal specials, monthly Zoom meeting access, and the Secret Garden private podcast.As a token of my appreciation, you will receive a free copy of Grateful when you give someone a YEAR gift subscription. After you subscribe, we’ll send you an email requesting the address where we can send your gift.
Offer good while supplies last (but I have plenty!). To activate this gift offer, click the “gift subscription” button below:
2. Sign yourself up for a membership or upgrade from free to a paid subscription to support my writing and the Cottage community. There are different levels of support — either monthly ($5 per month for as many months as you like) or yearly ($50). There is also a special level for cultivating members.
As a way to “pay it forward,” I will be giving 25% of ALL December receipts to the community outreach of Rising Hope Church, a wonderful mission-focused congregation that works for and among immigrants, low income families, the food insecure, and those without shelter in my neighborhood. To support the Cottage with a financial gift, click the “support” button below:
The giver of every good and perfect gift has called upon us to mimic Gods giving, by grace, through faith, and this is not of ourselves.
— St. Nicholas of Myra
An Advent Event
Shane Claiborne has picked Freeing Jesus as the December book of the Red Letter Christian Book Club! Read the book and join us in conversation via ZOOM on December 19 at 7pm. This is a free event. Click here for information and the sign-up link.
And now, a cup of coffee!
These mornings (on the West Coast) when I look to clear away the load of email that's accumulated I stop at your advent window and slow down. Especially Dec 4 and today, the 6th. This year, the advent time we're in, between thanksgiving and Christmas, is a season of feeling my losses, but "Wonder" lifted me. Tomorrow I am leading a church book club discussion of "Becoming Duchess Goldblatt," the poignant and funny memoir. In following you, Diana, I'm like the followers of the author's avatar Duchess-- soaking up her "all available truth and beauty." Thank you.