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Advent, Nochebuena, and the Gift of Togetherness: A San Antonio Christmas Tradition




There’s something magical about Advent in the Hispanic community of San Antonio. It’s more than the countdown to Christmas; it’s a season of togetherness, reflection, and anticipation that draws people closer to each other and to their faith. Growing up as a Catholic school kid, I learned that Advent wasn’t just about lighting candles on a wreath—it was about preparing our hearts and actions for something much bigger.


As a child, I was always drawn to the rose candle of the Advent wreath. Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent, was my favorite because it meant two things: the last week of school for the semester and that Christmas was almost here. The sight of that rose candle glowing in Mass brought a special joy, signaling that the wait was nearly over.


Looking back, I see how much effort my parents and grandparents put into making Advent and Christmas meaningful. My mother, in particular, transformed our home into a Christmas wonderland. Every corner sparkled with decorations, from twinkling lights to carefully placed ornaments. It wasn’t just about the festive look—it was about creating a space filled with love where we could gather and make lasting memories.


Those memories all came together, in our Hispanic family, at Christmas Eve—Nochebuena—the heart of the season. The planning, cooking, and organizing that went into those evenings was immense, but the love and care behind every detail was always felt.


The house would be filled with the smell of tamales steaming on the stove, and platters of pan dulce, including my favorite pink cake, waiting for dessert. Our family came together, sharing laughter, and stories, all the while in the background Christmas carols softly played on KQ102, San Antonio’s Official Christmas Station. This particular annual recipe created lifetimes of Christmas Eve memories that were each steeped in tradition, love, and magic.  


While I received many gifts over the years, the ones that have stayed with me are the memories of those Christmas Eves. I remember the joy of gathering as a family, the way my godfather offered the blessing before dinner, the opening of gifts, watching my grandparents sit back joyfully watching the family they created all in one loving space, and the reverence of watching Midnight Mass late at night from the Vatican on KMOL (channel 4).


Now in adulthood, I realize that Advent taught me that its preparation isn’t just about the outward trappings of the season—it’s about the love and intention behind every gesture. It’s about creating moments that last far longer than anything wrapped in shiny paper.


Embarking on this first season without my mother, those memories shine even brighter and sustain my holiday spirit no matter how stifled it feels with her absence. I remember fondly that her work to create a magical Christmas atmosphere wasn’t just for decoration—it was about infusing every detail with love, joy, and togetherness for me. In that same vein, my mother posthumously continues to gift me with a keen awareness that presence, memories, and love are the only aspects of life that truly matter. These strong and selfless truths ever remind me to be intentional in all that I do, to pour love over everyone for whom I have affection, and to keep my mom’s traditions alive.


As Advent begins, let us remember that it is a time spent preparing our homes and hearts for something sacred —the renewal of self in the love and hope of the Christ-Child. This season should guide us to slow down, reflect, and reconnect with what matters most — each other.


Personally, as I prepare myself during this Advent season, I hope to honor my mom and the spirit of Nochebuena so that I may carry forward the family lessons of mindfulness and togetherness. Remembering also that, in the end, it’s those moments—not the gifts—that truly last.

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