Santa Lucia ……….



More memories……. my father waking me in the early hours of the morning ….. my white gown hanging  by my bed, a crown of candles by its side …… not yet daylight …… ‘ssshhh go wake your sister’ my father whispers……. I stumble across the hallway, sleepy eyed ……… the clanking of the tea cups…… the smell of saffron buns … getting the tray ready …. slipping on the white gown, wrapping a silk red ribbon around my waist ……. ‘me first’ … for thats the way it was being the older sister and a little bossy at that …… 

the sweet smell of sulphur – the candles are lit ………steady, steady ….. don’t walk to fast ….the crown of candles balancing upon our heads …….. the day not fully risen, echoes of the night gently subsiding …….. we bundle into our mother and fathers room….. singing, giggling, the candles throwing crazy shadows on the wall ……. for we are little ladies of light … my sister and I …… Queens of our parents’ eyes …….. can’t ever go back……. but for in the head …… a little stage of memories unfaded by Time ……..


                                       A Swedish Tradition to brighten the longest, darkest night 

                                                   Bringing saffron buns and tea into mother


                                                           beautiful beautiful Sweden…….
  
           This tradition is on the 13th of December but I went to a Santa Lucia church service yesterday which inspired me to write about it today ……. always early with my celebrations ……. after all I was listening to christmas carols at the start of November ……….



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