Week 3: Joy - Thursday

Sacred wisdom claims that divine joy shimmers on every day, but some days I have to work awfully hard to see it, feel it.  Some days, and days upon days, joy seems to have gone AWOL! 

World events continue to disturb my sense of safety and security. Global political machinations confound me. I'm living in a world that I no longer understand and  in which I have zero power. Human beings are capable of such unfathomable cruelty and cowardice. And yet, we are also capable of equally astounding compassion and bravery.

Heartache and hope, darkness and light, often walk together holding hands. And that's a really good thing, one that can brighten a day.

image by license from Fotolia

Reach out,

Take hold of a hand, smile, listen.

Be the light in someone's darkness.

Be the shimmering moment of joy in someone's day.

©2025 April Hoeller

Week 3: Joy - Wednesday

So much of my joy at this time of year is wrapped up in parcels of Christmas past. Though some of the stories had sharp edges, all of them bring me a quiet joy.

Yet there is one story that never quite makes it into my treasury of Christmas joy. I can only guess that it is there, buried somewhere underneath all the cookie tins, wrapping paper and ornaments of this season.

In the 21st century, The Story, the one that is the ‘reason for the season’ has become a nice but well worn tale that can hardly be believed.

It struggles to be heard over the clamour of the buyers and the sellers. Obscured by the tinsel and the trimmings, it struggles to be relevant amongst the devoted and doubtful alike.

I too have I've heard The Story so many times and in so many ways, that it has lost much of its wonder,. Or perhaps I'm just too old to believe in it all any more.

You know how it goes – there is a mother, a father, a baby, some shepherds, a host of angels, some astronomers/astrologers from afar, and all the rest - and they all meet up with each other in some stable, or maybe it was a cave, or just a lean-to.

And oh, I almost forgot! There was a Star, a great big star!!

Once upon a time there were people who were not nearly so savvy and sophisticated as we.
Once upon a time there were people who treasured the simple gifts and looked up into the night sky in wonder.
Once upon a time there were people just like us, seeking light and hope, peace and joy, and love.

What would it be like stand side by side with them now and together look up into the night sky...

Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to thy Perfect Light.

(chorus from "We three Kings of Orient Are"; John Henry Hopkins, Jr. 1857)

©2025 April Hoeller

Week 3: Joy - Tuesday

Acts of terror, the calculated use of violence or threat of violence to inculcate fear, is way beyond my control, way beyond my ability to understand. I am shocked and appalled by the terrorist attack at a joyous celebration marking the beginning of Hanukkah on Bondi Beach in Australia. As I struggle to wrap my head around it, I feel a thin prickling of fear arise, one that I can brush aside only to have it arise again later. How safe am I? Is anyone of us safe? And if I, a white Canadian Christian woman in her 70's, can feel that fear, what's it like to be Jewish in these December days?  And because retaliation is is also a reality in this angry world, what's it like to be a Muslim?

Merry Christmas? - NOT!   Happy Hanukkah? - NOT!!

In the midst of troublesome thoughts and fears I take refuge in music.  Magnificent music. Far more inclusive than any religion can ever be, music has been and still is one of the best messengers of hope, peace, joy, and love. Symphonies, masses, oratorios, hymns, chants ancient and modern, and just plain songs of the season, any season, stir my heart, comfort  my soul, and inspire me to move forward along December days. I sing along, clap out the rhythms and add a few beats of my own, I march around the house. And that joyous energy quiets the questions, dampens the fear, restores my hope and gives me peace if but only for a moment, but what a moment it is! 

What a moment it is to watch the lighting of the second candle of Hanukkah as it happened on the evening after the terror attack in my town, in my country, and yes, even on Bondi Beach. Amid tears and hugs there is music, sorrow transfixed with joy. Music is a cry of protest, a defiant proclamation of light in the darkness.

In my kitchen last night, our family of blended faiths and traditions, celebrated the second night of Hanukkah and there was music, the Maoz Tzur.

So, get out the bells, tie Jingtinglers to your feet, blow the Floofloovers, beat the Blumbloopas, and ride that great big Electro Who-carnio floox! (instruments from the 1966 cartoon How the Grinch Stole Christmas). 

Make a joyful noise!

©2025 April Hoeller

Week 3: Joy - Monday

According to my schedule, the Christmas tree was to be dragged out of its oversized bin in the basement, aka "the tree coffin" (so called because its resemblance is unmistakable) - and put up in the living room over a week ago! That didn't happen. The task fell victim to the "one thing lead to another" syndrome, an affliction that persisted all the way into Thursday. This past weekend the tree became a rush job. It had to be up by Sunday because the grandchildren and their parents were coming to do the decorating. Well, we got it done, but it was not the slow gentle roll out accompanied by Christmas music and memories that I planned.

But I have another tree, one that is mine alone and in the quiet of Sunday night, I put up this very special tree. In 1992 my mother bought me the Swarovski Annual Christmas Ornament, a snowflake that year. 

She did so every year until the thin fingers of dementia began to invade and disrupt her thinking. There is a five year gap until my husband took up the tradition of giving me the annual ornaments. Each one is stored in its original box and the boxes are stacked in chronological order in a cupboard.

I take each ornament out, in order of course, polish with the special Swarovski gloves and hang it on the metal tree, always pausing to allow any memories of that particular year float to the surface. 

Not too many specific stories came to mind this year, but still it was delightful spend time recalling each year. And now I have once again a sparkling reminder of just how good my life has been and how fortunate I am. I couldn't follow my schedule, my agenda got hijacked by other stuff, yet at the end of the day I was able to find comfort.  

And joy shone all around!

©2025 April Hoeller

The Third Sunday of Advent

Morning on this third Sunday of Advent has dawned chilly and bright. A traditional Christmas landscape decorates the view outside my door and forecasts of continued cold and snow assure my dream of a white Christmas. 

Inside, in my kitchen, three candles - hope, peace, and today, Joy - bring even more light into my day. As is my custom, I linger over the flames, warming my hands and bathing my face in the glow, resting in the moment.

Hope is a mystery and a hug. Peace is forever and always a work in progress. And joy? Well joy is a sneaky rascal, stepping in at unexpected moments.

Joy is not something that I can seek, nor make happen. It is something that overtakes me in the quiet moments. My mind is crowded to the brim with lists, places to be and things to do. It's daunting! But just in the nick of time Advent III has arrived with the invitation to enter a blessed sanctuary away from the news feeds, the controversies, the noise, and the ToDo list. This week holds open a time for me to listen for the footfall of joy and when I hear it, step right up and join in the fun.

And one other joyful light for today: as the first star lights the night sky this evening, the first candle of Hanukkah will be lit. In this household we are blessed to be a family of blended faiths and traditions, so bring on the latkes, doughnuts, dreidl and gelt. Let us celebrate the lights of Advent and Hanukkah.

Chag Chanukah Sameach!

©2025 April Hoeller

Week 2: Peace - Saturday

There are particular writings that capture my heart at this time of year, books of poems and stories that can always be found on a table in my living room, close at hand to be read again and again. Amazing Peace by Maya Angelou is just one such poem. She wrote the poem especially for the White House Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony in 2005 but her words are just as relevant in 2025 as they were twenty years ago.

Today to close off the second week of Advent I offer her poem in full along with my photo interpretation in an effort to proclaim peace and light the darkness.

Amazing Peace

"Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes
And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses.
Flood waters await us in our avenues."

"Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche
Over unprotected villages.
The sky slips low and grey and threatening."

"We question ourselves.
What have we done to so affront nature?

We worry God.
Are you there? Are you there really?
Does the covenant you made with us still hold?" 

"Into this climate of fear and apprehension, Christmas enters,
Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope
And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air.
The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,
Come the way of friendship."

"It is the Glad Season.
Thunder ebbs to silence and lightning sleeps quietly in the corner.
Flood waters recede into memory.
Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us
As we make our way to higher ground."

"Hope is born again in the faces of children"
It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they walk into their sunsets.
Hope spreads around the earth. Brightening all things,
Even hate which crouches breeding in dark corridors."

"In our joy, we think we hear a whisper.
At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.
We listen carefully as it gathers strength.
We hear a sweetness.

The word is Peace.
It is loud now. It is louder.
Louder than the explosion of bombs."

"We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence.
It is what we have hungered for.
Not just the absence of war. But, true Peace.
A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.
Security for our beloveds and their beloveds."

"We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Peace."

"Come and fill us and our world with your majesty.
We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian,
Implore you, to stay a while with us.
So we may learn by your shimmering light
How to look beyond complexion and see community."

image by license from Pixabay.com

"It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.
On this platform of peace, we can create a language
To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.

At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ
Into the great religions of the world.
We jubilate the precious advent of trust.
We shout with glorious tongues at the coming of hope.
All the earth’s tribes loosen their voices
To celebrate the promise of Peace."

"We, Angels and Mortals, Believers and Non-Believers,
Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves
And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation.

Peace, My Brother. 

Peace, My Sister. 

Peace, My Soul."

poem: ©2005 Maya Angelou
Listen to the late Maya Angelou recite Amazing Peace here. 

photos: ©2025 April Hoeller, unless otherwise noted

Week 2: Peace - Friday

The storage containers have been lowered down from the attic. Huge bins have been hauled up from the basement. Each one is filled with baubles and trinkets, garlands and children's crafts - a history of tradition and memories.

Some are showing their age. Yet another vintage ornament shatters in my hand and I cry. A few of our children's school crafts are hardly holding together, but I haven't got the heart to discard them, because I know the stories. I once held the hands of the people who gifted my home with all of these treasures. 

The Adventstollen, pfeffernusse, almond spritz, gingerbread, and three different kinds of shortbread, including my mother's shortbread recipe have all been baked. Along with all the rich buttery flavours, a bounty of rich memories of the aromas and treasures that came from her kitchen fill my heart.

Each heady baking aroma evokes memories of my family - from the sublime to the ridiculous, the poignant to the marvelous.

Christmas 1972

Hubby with our two, 1987

Granddaughter #1, 2019

Granddaughter #2, 2021

Two sets of little hands, 2024 

There is a practiced ritual to all this work of Advent yet there is nothing ordinary about it. It is a sensory feast that evokes stories of old while at the same time adding new ones. It is an annual open-hearted opportunity to look closely, listen carefully, inhale deeply, savour slowly, touch and be touched gently, and experience that peace that passes all understanding.

©2025 April Hoeller