In December, Jeff and I observe both Advent and Chanukah. In short, we set things on fire a lot. On the windowsill, there's the menorah. On the coffee table, there's the Advent wreath.
What strikes me about both of these is how process-oriented they are. When you see a picture of a menorah, it's always the eighth night will all the candles blazing. But it spends most of the week partially lit, building up to the finale. An Advent wreath, likewise, is in a perpetually lopsided state. On the first Sunday of Advent, you burn one candle. Next Sunday, two, until it's Christmas Eve and all four (or five, depending on how you do it*) are lit. At any time, some of the candles have been burnt more than others. They are different heights, even when they're all lit.
Now, we say, I want it now. But both of these seasons are not about instant gratification. They're about duration.
![](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PQVuy7pin6s/TQO5_Kkm22I/AAAAAAAAAI8/L97qfKzC3Ew/s400/menorah.JPG)
![](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PQVuy7pin6s/TQO2KmLKzKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/kkiHCO5imh8/s400/advent.JPG)
*Yes, I know my candles aren't pink and purple, nor are they properly in a wreath. But this is how my Danish host mother did it, and it sure is easier to find white candles.