Yesterday, December 13, was St. Lucy’s Day, and I did not write about it.

Lucy is my saint’s name so yesterday was my name day, and I forgot about it.

I attended the 5th of six workshops on Advent and the practice of welcoming the light as expressed in the mystic, primarily Catholic, traditions, and neither teacher mentioned St. Lucy, the patron saint of light and sight.

WTF?

What happened to the light? It must be waiting behind the little door on the advent calendar labeled December 21.

Ironically, December 21 is the winter solstice—the darkest day of the year—and Yule. But unironically, December 21 brings the light because that is the day I turn in my fall semester grades and my winter break officially begins.

I complain a lot about grading—it is unarguably the worst part of teaching. I’m not sure if the misery stems from being required (or at least expected) to spend hours and hours reading essays that clearly took minutes and minutes to write or if it is because in reviewing those essays I am confronted with all of my failures as a teacher—how could students have not understood the point I explained almost daily for 12-16 weeks?

But students are also in darkness. On December 21, they will see.

On December 21, I will file my grades, archive my classes, and put away this semester’s planner. For a few weeks, I will enjoy the radiant possibility of a blank page, an open calendar, and divine light.