A Literary Advent Calendar

An advent calendar with a literary theme. This blog came about because I wanted to give my daughter, who lives alone, an advent calendar during the 2020 pandemic. A daily blog post with a seasonal quote or poem was a way of saying 'you are in my heart'.

11. The Silver Linings Playbook by Matthew Quick

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December 11, 2020

The Silver Linings Playbook

Matthew Quick

Miracles happen on Christmas, Pat. Everybody knows that shit.

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23. The Proud Little Christmas Tree by Sarah Scott

December 23, 2020

The Proud Little Christmas Tree Sarah Scott "This one! This one!" a small voice cries! "Oh yes! It's perfect and just the right size" The older voice agrees with laughter full of joy, Gazing with love, at an excited little boy. Sometime later, sitting proudly near the fire, The little Christmas tree is glad that he's not higher. For if he was, the boy would never reach His topmost branches, where he decorated each. And every spindle with a shiny coloured ball, Then ran around with tinsel, being careful not to fall. "Mummy! Daddy! Come now and see the tree! It's beautiful! All decorated, and all done, just by me!" With smiles on their faces, they all walked hand in hand, Eyes falling on the tree that's now looking so grand! They string tiny lights, it's quite the finishing touch. Nothing else is needed, except the presents, cards and such. Later on that night, when we all fall fast asleep, The little tree stands, his joy shining throug...

24. 'Twas the night before Christmas by Major Henry Livingstone, jr.

December 24, 2020

Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas BY MAJOR HENRY LIVINGSTON, JR. ’Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar plums danc’d in their heads, And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap — When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow, Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below; When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny rein-deer, With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whist...

6. Christmas, 1970 by Sandra M. Castillo

December 06, 2020

Christmas, 1970 Sandra M. Castillo We assemble the silver tree, our translated lives, its luminous branches, numbered to fit into its body. place its metallic roots to decorate our first Christmas. Mother finds herself opening, closing the Red Cross box she will carry into 1976 like an unwanted door prize, a timepiece, a stubborn fact, an emblem of exile measuring our days, marked by the moment of our departure, our lives no longer arranged. Somewhere, there is a photograph, a Polaroid Mother cannot remember was ever taken: I am sitting under Tia Tere’s Christmas tree, her first apartment in this, our new world: my sisters by my side, I wear a white dress, black boots, an eight-year-old’s resignation; Mae and Mitzy, age four, wear red and white snowflake sweaters and identical smiles, on this, our first Christmas, away from ourselves. The future unreal, unmade, Mother will cry into the new year with Lidia and Emerito, our elderly downstairs neighbors, who realize what we are too y...