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Christmas brought an impressive haul during my childhood. My doting parents made sure Santa delivered an electric train, an Easy-Bake Oven and a Littlest Angel doll dressed in clothes handmade by my mother. There were surprises I had not requested, too, including an easel with a chalkboard and a wonderful dollhouse that my next-door friend Gwennie once helped inspect.
Yet one holiday staple was entirely missing: I never owned—or even knew about—an Advent calendar. My mother probably had not encountered them either, because otherwise I almost certainly would have received one.
Counting down to Christmas is an old custom, but the paper-calendar business gained momentum in 1946, when Stuttgart-based Richard Sellmer received permission to manufacture them. The company produced 230 designs through 1998, including versions created for different countries.
The calendars I later bought for my daughters were simple. Each little door concealed a seasonal image, perhaps a candle or sprig of holly.
By the time I had grandchildren, chocolate-filled editions had arrived. Hoping the gift would secure my reputation as an exceptional grandmother, I bought one for each of my three grandchildren. My grandson immediately opened every door and ate all the chocolate on the first day, making himself sick and leaving me to face his understandably unhappy mother.
Today’s Advent calendars go far beyond pictures and candy. Shoppers can count down with coffee, puzzles, scented candles, caviar, macarons or chili oils. Bonne Maman has offered a $54.99 calendar filled with tiny jars of jam, while Flaviar has sold a curated whiskey version for $270. Online clearance prices suggest that buying next year’s calendar early might be the economical move.
My own Advent-free childhood was finally corrected by my granddaughter during her freshman year at the University of Wisconsin. She sent us a cupboard-sized calendar stocked entirely with Wisconsin products.
Every day brought something new, including fudge, chocolate, popcorn, honey and even small vacuum-packed smoked sausages. After decades without an Advent calendar, I could finally borrow Scarlett O’Hara’s resolve from Gone with the Wind: I would never go hungry again.