Two weeks until the fourth Advent. As a child, time always seemed endless to us, but it was shortened and literally sweetened by activities in school, clubs and at home. We always sat together on Advent Sundays and sang Christmas carols or other songs together, while the candles burned on the Advent wreath and one could 'try' the Christmas bakery or baked apples. Now Advent is the time when lights are shining everywhere then as now. In the windows, in the front yard, at the entrance and of course in the house. Everything is illuminated and makes the 'dark season' with its short days and long nights brighter and friendlier. In the windows, the candles glow and shine on the artistic wooden arches from the Ore Mountains or large paper stars that had been sent by relatives from the former GDR.
And then there was something else that particularly interested me: the Christmas pyramid, with its wings and candles, the warmth of which set the angels on the pedestal below in motion. Now it is quite logical that the distance between the candles and the propeller determines the speed of the angel crowd on the podium. When they were lit for the first time, the angels were in a terrible hurry to walk around in circles. They weren't actually running, no, they were running as if the devil was after them. But since they could only run in a circle, they never reached a destination.
If they were still full of zeal and tremendous speed on the first Advent, they slowed down on the second Advent. On the third Advent you could already see the first signs of fatigue, they had slowed down and then on the fourth Advent, almost crawling on their knees, dragged themselves to their supposed destination. But they held out!
For us children, the decreasing speed of the angels on the pyramid was always a sign that Christmas was approaching. The more exhausted the angels, the closer the Christmas Eve was.