Happy St. Lucy's Day!

For years I've wanted to include a celebration of St. Lucy's Day in our Advent activities.

The Swedish tradition is to have the oldest daughter (some say youngest) in the house put on a white gown before dawn, walk around with a crown of burning candles on her head, and wake the other members of the family by presenting them with a tray of freshly baked sweet yeast bread and cups of coffee and hot chocolate.

This has always presented the following problems for me:

1) Before dawn?

2) A crown of burning candles?

3) Freshly baked yeast rolls?

4) Before dawn?

The only thing that really appealed was the coffee, but we have that every morning, not just on St. Lucy's Day, so it's hardly unique and festive. More like a required daily allowance of caffeine to jump start the brain.

Besides, most years, I'd just plain forget, only to realize sometime during the day that, rats, I once again missed St. Lucy's Day.

But not this year!

I'd asked my Guardian Angel to wake me for 6:45 a.m. Mass. He did, at 5:30. Too early, I said. How about something a little later? The second wake-up was at 6:15; plenty of time to get to Mass by the entrance antiphon. Good thing I did, because I was immediately reminded that it was St. Lucy's Day.

Hear us, O God, our salvation, as we rejoice on the feast of Saint Lucy, Thy virgin and Martyr, and grant us to learn the spirit of pious devotion.

I began spinning a plan to adapt the old Swedish custom to my American family.

First, the timing: Tom was taking the day off, so I could let everyone in my night-owl family sleep in a bit (avoiding that whole pre-dawn thing) and still have a little celebration.

Next, the treats. Freshly baked yeast rolls? I don't think so. But as long as I had to stop for gas at the Speedway on the way home, I could also grab some doughnuts. Close enough.

A crown of candles? Uh, no. I'm not fond of the smell of burning hair.

So, I bought six glazed doughnuts, set them on a round tray, wreath-like, put a tall white candle in the center of each one, went upstairs, lit the candles, and then proceeded into each bedroom to wake everyone, hopefully without setting the house on fire.

It all worked out just fine. There's nothing quite like the drama of flaming candles in a darkened bedroom to pop everyone's eyes open. And then nothing like the promise of doughnuts to get them downstairs for breakfast.

Too bad St. Lucy's Day is just once a year.