The season is arriving the way it always does—soft at first… then suddenly everywhere. Lights in windows. Songs in grocery aisles.A kind of collective remembering. And with it comes the old pressure: lists, carts, wrapping paper, deadlines, receipts—the loud, glittering chorus of more. But under all of that…there’s a quieter invitation. To return to what can’t be bought to remember what actually lasts. Because the truest gifts of the season don’t come with bows. They come like this: - a call you almost didn’t make - a name spoken with tenderness - Forgiveness offered without a speech - a chair pulled out for someone who feels alone - a story told again… because it matters who remembers it - a moment of peace where fear used to sit - a “I’m here” that costs nothing—and means everything This time of year holds many sacred languages. Some call it Christmas. Some call it light returning. Some call it love, community, mercy, remembrance, or grace. Whatever words you use, most of us are longing for the same thing: To belong to-To be seen To be held—without having to earn it. So here’s our gentle question for Kettle & Candle this week: What is one “spiritual gift” you want to give (or receive) this season—something you can’t put in a box? If you want a few prompts to choose from, pick one: 1. A gift I’m giving this year is… (presence, patience, listening, honesty, kindness, repair) 2. A gift I’m craving is… (peace, time, forgiveness, laughter, rest, belonging) 3. One small ritual that brings me back to what matters is… 4. A person I want to reach for—before the season passes—is… (no details needed) If your season is joyful, bring that joy here. If your season is tender or complicated, bring that too. There’s room at this table for all of it. 🕯️ Put the kettle on… We’ll meet each other in the simple, sacred things.