It was usually the last Sunday of Advent, and sometimes even
Christmas Eve, that my parents would put up the tree. The familiar
crackling sound of the antique record player and Andy Williams crooning Sleigh Ride
in the background always filled me with that warm Christmassy feeling.
My father was a liturgical musician, and the one thing he was strict
about was not listening to or singing Christmas music in the home or
even decorating until it was nearly Christmas.
So, we embraced the Advent traditions of the Advent wreath and Jesse
Tree. My mother always put up an outdoor Advent wreath complete with
pink and purple bows, which got switched to red on Christmas Eve. Some
well-meaning neighbor would always stop by the first week of Advent and
let her know that three of her candles were burnt out.
Read the rest at the National Catholic Register...