Hot summer mornings were always setting in by December, but Mum would still be making porridge for breakfast when I’d bounce into the kitchen before school to thank her for that morning’s surprise gift.
My mum is an artist by trade and every December of my childhood she carefully curated a homemade Advent calendar for me.
Wrapped in tissue paper and poking out of small pockets or drawers, the treasure trove of trinkets made the 24 days leading up to Christmas feel magical. I would stand on tiptoe, trying to guess what the large package to be opened on the last day was, or whether the very round one might be a Lindt ball. There was strictly no peeking.
For some, the lead up to Christmas is the homestretch to time off work or a long to-do list before hosting family. For some kids, it is one last chance to mail a letter to the north pole. But for me, it was always about the Advent calendar.
The small surprise every day before school as holidays edged closer became a ritual and Mum, who loves the gift of giving, shared in that joy, often having forgotten what the day’s package might be.
My favourite calendar was a big felted Santa with a pocket for each day of the month, and a reindeer on a string to move along as the days went by. In photos of me as a toddler, you can see it in the background. I still have it, although it hangs empty now.
When I was little, the pockets were full of hand-drawn pictures or sparkly stickers, mini glitter gel pens, a gemstone or a keyring; any novelty gift was exciting for a small child. As I got older, some sweets came into the mix as well as tiny Christmas decorations for the tree so I could start my very own collection.
One year we bought a new calendar in the shape of a Christmas tree. Each day has a drawer with a number on the front and a picture on the back. As you pulled them out, turned them around and put them back in, the tree filled with colour and decorations. Another was made up of 24 small stockings, which I loved pegging to the rope down the hallway. They were easier to stuff, but they didn’t beat the Santa.
Another year, a friend and I made our own calendars out of big cardboard boxes to be filled by her parents. We turned them into dollhouse-like mansions covered in glitter, with windows and doors that opened to reveal the day’s surprise hanging behind them. I remember some anxiety that the tradition I cherished would be in someone else’s hands that year.
I always appreciated that my mum’s Advent calendar tradition was time consuming and, as I got older, costly. But it was so special, and I still miss it sometimes.
Commercially, Advent calendars have become more luxurious items in recent years, with packages almost as extravagant as the main present under the tree. Many are not even aimed at children.
But in a world where almost everything is mass produced, Advent calendars need not be. They are an opportunity to create something special, and an everlasting family memory.
If you dig around online you’ll find there are dozens of ideas for DIY calendars, from those that stick to tradition, revealing a picture of a nativity scene each day, to those filled with prompts for fun family activities or acts of goodwill.
I might have outgrown the Advent calendar now and reluctantly freed my mother from the task, but I look forward to doing it for my own children one day. Santa comes and goes in one night, but Advent calendars delight for weeks on end.
For me the warmth and excitement of the festive season starts on 1 December. With peeling gold numbers, I still hang up the felted Santa each year to count down the days.
