Christmas celebrations started early for me one year when I was living on the Upper East Side in New York City. It began on The Feast of Saint Lucy, a holiday celebrated by people of Scandinavian ancestry on December 13. One of my friends had a Swedish co-worker who had just immigrated to the USA. He was excited to help her celebrate her country’s special Christmas feast day for her first Christmas in America. I had never heard of this celebration before but, when I retired for the night on December 12th, I was about to find out about it in a quite surprising way.
It seems my friends bribed the friendly doorman to allow them and Saint Lucia into the elevator. They slipped quietly up to the seventeenth floor and knocked on my door at about 6 am. It was a workday but my alarm wasn’t set to go off until 8 am. Sleepily, and with great curiosity and just a bit of fear, I looked out through the front door’s peephole but couldn’t see anything but lights. I buzzed the doorman who assured me that someone was indeed at my door and that it would be perfectly fine for me to let them in. As I opened the door, a very tall, very blond goddess-looking woman wearing a white flowing robe, a crown of lit wax candles on her head and a lit candle in her hand entered. Softly singing Christmas carols, my two friends entered behind her, while I stared, shocked and in total disbelief.
One friend was carrying a tray of pastries and another was balancing a tray of liqueurs. My roommate was now awake and came into the foyer, her eyes wide and round in surprise. When Saint Lucy entered the living room they all put down their trays and candles, and explained that this was a Swedish tradition begun in the Eighteenth Century. It includes Lucy appearing in the morning and handing out cakes and candies. Celebrations for Lucia Day in Sweden apparently begin the night before, which is obviously when my friends had begun, and continues until the next morning, which is what they were now doing at my apartment to help their Swedish friend celebrate her first Christmas in the United States.
After the grand entrance and much needed explanation, we sat, ate the special buns, drank a toast to Saint Lucia with some kind of (very strong) Swedish liqueur, and laughed until we cried. Unfortunately, I then had to get dressed and go to work, which was fine except that I was tired and just a bit tipsy, however, I was happy and it was a nice tired and a nice tipsy.
