Annabelle arrived home this afternoon to see the little Advent nature table I set up for her. Amid the boxes and leftovers of moving, I cleared a small table and created a breathing space to reflect the season. She was very, very happy to find it there, next to our very simple Christmas tree, and asked me to light the candles with her several times.
Finally, after dinner, I lit the candles with her one by one, reciting the Advent verse:
The first light of advent is the light of stones
Light that shines in seashells, in crystals, and in bones.
The second light of advent is the light of plants
Light that reaches up to the sun and in the breezes dance.
The third light of advent is the light of beasts
Light of hope we may see in the greatest and the least
The fourth light of advent is the light of man
Light of human thought, to love and understand.
Then she asked me to take several pictures of her standing next to the table. First she simply smiled. Then she crossed her arms "like in kindergarten." Then she wanted a "fancy" picture and placed her hands above her head and stood on her toes like a ballerina. Then she said, "Now I will stand the way I stand at Advent." And she crossed her hands upon her heart.
The colors seemed so bright in the picture, so I dulled down the midtone. It makes it seem like more of a photograph from the 1970s, but the emphasis is brought more to Annabelle instead of the strong reds and blues and whites.
This has been a season of learning to forget some of the details to be able to get the job done. In the past I have been guilty of simply not doing something only because it couldn't be done up to some standard that I held with greater importance than just having whatever it was in a more simple way.
I came just a little bit closer to relaxing today as I put together this little nature table for Annabelle: Allowing myself to forget the silk back drop and pretend that I didn't really mind the shutters on the wall just above, and countless other things that have wedged themselves into what I consider a "good" nature table. Because I HAD to admit that having a table for Annabelle, even if substandard, was absolutely better than not having one at all.
And (as she likes to say) guess what? Annabelle loved it.
