It's December 12th, 1999, and it's dark in my family's living room in Southern California.

The only real light is coming from a string of Christmas decorations on the deck outside.

Inside it's warm, it smells like saffron and cinnamon, and there's a soft glow emanating

from the middle of the room.

That's where I'm standing.

With a tinsel crown and five electric candles strapped to my head, behind the video camera,

my mom gives a little nod.

We're rolling.

I'm five years old, and as I start walking deliberately across the room, you can see my

intense focus in the way my little hands are tightly gripping a tray of saffron rolls.

I'm wearing a loose-fitting white gown with long sleeves and a Peter Pan collar.

The hem grazes the floor as I walk into the hallway.

Little white socks poked out from the bottom with every step.

And the song I'm singing is in Swedish.

I know all the words by heart.

The way you look like you're just...

Translated.

Then in our dark house.

She walks with lit candles.

St. Lucia.

I'm Sarah Lyman, and this is Atlas Obscura, a celebration of the world's strange, incredible

and wondrous places.

...