How a candle-making hobby inspired a unique Advent tradition.
The star is shining on the hill.”I could almost hear my grandfather, Doc, speaking the words as I sorted through the boxes of keepsakes in his basement. It’s how he always signed off on his annual Christmas letter. Every holiday season, he lit up the star that hung on an old water tower that stood on a hill by his house. The star was a guiding light not only for me in my life, but for the travelers passing on their way along the Mississippi River. But the star wouldn’t be shining this year—and no Christmas letter would be sent.
Doc had passed away in July. Now, in August, my family was cleaning up the house so it could be sold.
“Doc’s World War II memorabilia,” I said to myself as I opened another box. He’d served in the Aleutian Islands. I’d already found dozens of souvenirs from his trips around the world. And then I found the candles.
Doc had invested hard work, time and dedication to many hobbies throughout his life. At one point, he got passionate about candle making. He displayed them all over the house. Doc had even made the unity candle for my wedding. Apparently he’d made too many for one person to burn. I carried an armload of his wax creations upstairs to show the rest of the family.
“What should we do with all of these?” I asked, setting out tall tapers, votive candles, fat pillar candles, you name it.
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