My daughter is two years old for this Christmas. It means that it’s the first one in which she’s got any idea what’s happening. We didn’t spend her first Christmas together, she was with a foster carer who gave her a wonderful, love-filled day for which we’re immensely grateful. A few months later, she came to join our family and later that year she had her first “White Christmas” in lockdown. With family members on zoom or waving through windows.
This year is different. She’s so aware of the lights, the trees, the incoming presents from arriving relatives. She’s got reindeer tights, a polar bear dress and, thanks to her big brother, the title track of Nativity 3 “Dude Where’s My Donkey?” stuck on a loop in her head.
Having a seven year old means we’ve gone through all this before, but it’s wonderful seeing my little girl come to life with every new festive revelation. And yet still nothing had quite prepared me for yesterday morning when she came downstairs and saw her Peppa Pig advent calendar.
Her brother knew exactly what to do. Search for the illusive number “1” and get stuck in. Within seconds he had devoured a small lump of Dairy Milk before finding the words “PINE TREE” were hidden behind it and realising he’d missed the Christmas themed quiz question that shall now accompany every breakfast.
But my daughter had no idea. She was excited enough by the picture of Peppa wearing a woolly hat. “How lovely” she must have wondered. “Mummy and Daddy have got me a picture of Peppa for the living room” I imagine she said to herself. “Much better than all that so-called art they’ve got on the walls” She may have secretly thought.
She held it, looked at it, showed it to us all and then pulled it in close.
My wife was the one who let her in on the secret. Behind a tiny, hidden, cardboard door was an equally tiny morsel of chocolate.
“Choc choc? For breakfast?” she asked. Before we could confirm or deny this for her, she had eaten the piece in one go.
This morning, I expected the scene to be somewhat different. A bit more like we’ve become accustomed to in our house. My son comes downstairs, he asks for his calendar, opens a door and eats a chocolate before getting on with his day. But when we showed the calendar to my daughter, she took me a little by surprise. Because while she remembered there was a door, when she opened it, she shook with excitement and then screamed “more choc choc??” in total shock. The look on her face was one of sheer joy mixed with surprise mixed with excitement mixed with panic. I can only describe it as terrifyingly beautiful.
And this wasn’t a performance or a show. She wasn’t pretending to be surprised, she was absolutely shocked to her core to discover that behind this second door would be another piece of chocolate.
You see, my son knows that behind each door on his advent calendar lies the same thing. Sure they might have a quiz answer to discover (by the way, I did not know that Christmas Island was in the Indian Ocean) but ultimately, the main event is always the main event, a piece of delicious, oddly shaped chocolate. But my daughter doesn’t know this. Right now, this whole door-based chocolate extravaganza is a new experience to her, and it’s wonderful to watch.
It got me thinking about my own personal approach to advent 2021. And I wonder if my kid’s two very different responses to their calendars don’t perfectly mirror my own internal battle this year.
On the one hand, I crave the safety of a “normal” Christmas. Last year’s sudden shift in plans has taken its toll on me. I don’t want presents exchanged in a car park, or passing waves from loved ones too nervous to stop and say hello in case a neighbour reports them for an illegal gathering. The surprise of a last minute Downing Street press conference isn’t welcome this year. I want to know what’s coming and I want to be entirely un-shocked by its arrival.
But on the other hand, I wonder what might it might look like if instead of tip-toeing in tired expectation I entered this season searching for surprise. Opening each days door with a sense that anything could happen here.
In the first Christmas story, the “wise men” are looking for a king, so they follow their expectations and find themselves in a luxurious palace with a royal ruler. When, in fact, the king they seek is lying in an animal shelter behind a crowded inn.
Surprise!
Like my daughter prying open another cardboard hinge, I wonder if they screamed with wonder and delight. Each new revelation more shocking than the last!
“A stable?”
“A manger??”
“A baby???”
And I wonder if this advent is a reminder that when our expectations guide us, we can find ourselves in all the “right places” doing all the “right things”, but when we’re prepared to be surprised, we can find ourselves in the most unexpected places discovering the very thing we’ve been searching for all along.
It’s hard to know if my daughter’s shocked reactions will make it to the door marked “24” on her calendar, but she’s inspired her dad to aim for an advent packed full of the unexpected. Where everyday interactions can lead me to fresh inspiration, where matter of fact conversations can lead me to community and where this much-anticipated season can lead me to discover the surprisingly sacred.
Photo by Elena Mozhvilo on Unsplash
Matt White 