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A Swedish Christmas tale
It was Christmas eve, and an enchanting quiet had settled over the northern Swedish village. As Emily awoke in the early dawn and peeked out her frost-etched window, her heart skipped a beat—it was snowing! The first snow of the winter had finally arrived, transforming the world outside into a winter wonderland. The delicate white flakes swirled peacefully outside, blanketing the entire village.
The red house with white-framed windows where Emily lived stood at the edge of the village, nestled among the fir trees that now appeared to be wearing the snow like a festive cloak. The scent of saffron drew Emily from her daydreams and guided her to the kitchen. There stood her mother, hard at work preparing lussekatter—the golden saffron flavoured buns that she loved so dearly. Her mother always baked these sweet Swedish buns the day before Christmas, a tradition Emily looked forward to almost as much as the presents waiting under the tree.
"Good morning, älskling”, her mother stroked her cheek and greeted with the typical Swedish endearment. Her mother’s face glowed with the heat from the stove as she handed Emily a steaming mug of cocoa, and Emily cradled it in her hands, savouring the sweetness. The cup was her favourite, decorated with a quote from Swedish author Astrid Lindgren: “Yes, I believe that the essence of life is love” Emily read the words softly to herself, feeling they were written just for this moment.
“Time to pick the tree!” Emily’s father announced, appearing in the doorway. It had long been a Christmas tradition for the three of them, each year they bundled themselves up against the cold, fetched the old sled from the woodshed and trudged off together, in the snow, to pick out the family tree.
His scarf pulled up over his nose, Emily’s father made her giggle as he puffed and panted, tugging her along on the sled. The forest lay hushed under its snowy blanket, the only sounds the crunch of their boots and their gentle chatter as they made their way deeper into the trees. At last, they found it—the perfect tree, tall and full, with branches simply begging to be decorated. Together, they secured it to the sled and began the journey home, their cheeks flushed from the cold and their breath rising in little puffs. Emily slipped her mittened hand into her mother’s. “This is my favourite day of the year,” she said in a voice filled with quiet wonder.
Back at the cottage, the family wasted no time. Emily helped her mother to carefully unpack the baubles, each one adorned with charming, childlike designs that shimmered in the light. With each decoration, the tree grew more magical. When her mother finally plugged in the lights and a soft golden glow spread throughout the room, Emily clasped her hands in delight. “This is the most beautiful tree we’ve ever had,” she declared.
Night had fallen by the time the family settled onto the sofa in the living room. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, and the smell of freshly baked lussekatter filled the air. On the coffee table, a tray of steaming glögg and the golden buns waited. Emily plumped the pillows and dragged a cosy blanket around herself. She nestled close to her mother as her father opened a well-worn copy of the family’s favourite Christmas book and began to read aloud. His voice wove its way through the room, bringing the Christmas tales to life.
Later that evening, Emily perched by the window, her favourite mug now filled once again with the warming aroma of cocoa, she watched the snowflakes continue to drift softly from the sky. The neighbouring houses glowed with the warm light of candles and fairy lights, and she soaked in the enchanting, snow-covered scene, her excitement building for what tomorrow would bring. She held her cup close and read its familiar words once more: “Yes, I believe that the essence of life is love.”
You can find a recipe for Swedish Lussekatter here: Swedish Pastries: Cinnamon Buns, Semlor, and Lussekatter
Photography: Elof Martinsson, Design House Stockholm
