As a child growing up, the first tree I ever learned by name was a Scotch Pine. They have bark like scales, are bushy and have big clumps of long green needles. Every year at Christmas, in the same corner of the same room, a Scotch Pine lorded over the rest of us. There was something utterly predictable about Christmas; its festivities and decorations - except one year. My father and older siblings were forcing the Christmas tree up the steps into the living room when two large branches were inadvertently broken off, much to the chagrin of my mother! My father who was handy with handling things (including my mother's temperament) drilled holes into the trunk and somehow with a string-like contraption was able to hold the branches in place. That all worked very well of course: until you went within three feet of the tree, whispered over two decibels or closed the back door. The branches would shed their precious ornaments, fall from their perch and dangle helplessly like a participle at the end of a sentence - and who says trees can't talk. Each time it did this the temperature in the room would go up and so would the number of the new expletives used in reference to "Ye Olde Tannebaum". That was as exciting as it got waiting for the next time that tree would do its business. As a matter of fact and not to digress, we played hours upon hours of "I Spy With My Little Eye", with the tree as our focus.

                 The flipping branches added a dimension of mystery to the season. Mystery in the way that you did not know quite what was going to happen or when it was going to happen or if you were going to be there, to see it when it did occur. Mystery in the sense of the difference with hoots of wonder and delight in the surprise. Mystery in how we waited for it, looked to each others reactions and in later years have even found humour in its contemplation.

                Those two flipping branches are like a living metaphor for the Advent Season which presses upon us. This year with people, resources, traditions, colours, candles, decorations, symbols, art, music, drumming, language, insight, growth, understanding, new learning, etcetera ... we are going to flip over into another branch of experiencing, encountering, engaging and celebrating another branch of cultural traditions. Due to the efforts of our Native brothers and sisters, a whole series of new resources liturgical, educational and others have become available. Each Sunday during the Season of Advent we will be adding to our First Nation's theme through: displays; rituals; sounds and phrases and words and worship. The Chancel Guild, Musicians, Candle Makers from the Readaptation Centre, Wreath makers, Artists, Speakers, Members of the Staff, Visitors and Guests have been preparing for our walk through the opening days of this new time of being.

            We need to prepare too. As with any encounter with the unexpected and the mysterious with the Sacred presence of the Creator, we need to stay open to the Divine. The mighty Gitchi Manitou comes now among us. May you find peace growing within you.

                                    In Christ
 

                        Shaun E. Fryday