There was an old and probably somewhat confused woman who lived in a ruined hut on the outskirts. On the first Sunday of Advent she lit all four candles on her Advent wreath. On Advent 2, three candles burned and on the 3rd of Advent, only two candles made their appearance. And – how could it be any different – on the 4th of Advent the poor, old woman lit only a candle on the Advent wreath. But Christmas Eve, and the Christmas holidays, the woman spent in her pitch-black and cold room.
The mayor of the affluent city had observed all this during his Sunday walks over to the forest for years. One day he took a heart and knocked on the door of the old hut. The woman asked him for a cup of Wachholdertee and when he asked why she lit the Advent candles in exactly the wrong order, the frail lady replied:
“When I shuffle through the streets of the city during the first week of Advent, I am greeted and smiled by all the people, but in the second week of Advent I am also greeted, but the smile on my faces is missing.” In the third week of Advent, some nod to me a few people, but in the following week I’m only breathing fresh air for the busy citizens, yes, and on Christmas Eve and the holidays I sit lonely and alone, year after year, in my room, week by week It’s getting darker around me and that’s why I do it with my Advent wreath. “
Then the mayor got up and asked the elderly citizen. “Do you know where my house is?” – “Yes, yes,” answered the woman, where most of the lights are burning. “-” Very well, “said the schoolboy,” then come there on Christmas Eve. You are invited to celebrate with my family and me the most beautiful festival of the year with a thousand lights. “Then the woman began to cry and also the mayor cried.