Hello, everyone!
Let’s open Door Number 24…
Let’s open Door Number 24…
It’s here.
Christmas Eve.
The night the whole month has been leaning toward.
Christmas Eve.
The night the whole month has been leaning toward.
Christmas Eve
Today, everything slows.
Whatever is ready is ready.
Whatever isn’t—let it go.
This is the day (and night) for the quiet miracles:
- The tree lights reflecting in the window like stars brought indoors.
- The hush that settles as the afternoon fades.
- The way one favourite carol can make your eyes fill unexpectedly.
- The knowledge that tomorrow, love will show up in a thousand small ways.
And if you’re spending this Christmas alone — whether by choice, circumstance, or something in between — know this:
- You are not forgotten.
- Your Christmas matters just as much.
- Light your candle anyway.
- Play your music anyway.
- Make your favourite meal, wrap a little gift for yourself, and pour the good drink.
- Be gentle and generous with the one person who is definitely there: you.
- Solitude doesn’t mean emptiness.
Today and tonight can still be full — of peace, of memories, of quiet joy, of hope for what’s coming.
I’m thinking of every one of you who will be on your own this year.
I’m lighting an extra candle for you.
You are held in my heart.
Whether you’re surrounded by noise and laughter or wrapped in beautiful quiet, this Christmas Eve is yours.
I’m thinking of every one of you who will be on your own this year.
I’m lighting an extra candle for you.
You are held in my heart.
Whether you’re surrounded by noise and laughter or wrapped in beautiful quiet, this Christmas Eve is yours.
I’m sitting here this afternoon with tea, the tree glowing softly, and the house finally still.
Everything feels full — of peace, of wonder, of tomorrow.
Everything feels full — of peace, of wonder, of tomorrow.
Your turn. In the comments, just leave a 🎄 or a ❤️ or a 🕯️ if you’re here with me on Christmas Eve. No words needed.
Merry Christmas, dear readers.
Merry Christmas, dear readers.
See you tomorrow…

