For some, the season sparkles, full of moments that feel as if they were lifted straight from a Hallmark movie. Santa might be your greatest friend this year, and you greet him with smiles that come easily.

But, sometimes the holidays land differently.

Sometimes Santa is not a symbol of joy, but a reminder of the memory of a small child who once stood in front of you with wonder in their eyes, running toward the Christmas tree you lovingly decorated. Sometimes that memory is all that’s left.

Sometimes it’s the ache of missing a mother who was Christmas itself. The one who baked the cookies, wrapped the presents, hummed the carols, and somehow held the whole world together with nothing but love and tradition. Now the season feels quieter because her laughter is missing from the room.

Sometimes it’s a father you once believed was unbreakable. The one who hauled the tree inside, untangled the lights, and lifted you onto his shoulders so you could place the star at the very top of the tree. And now, it’s your turn. There’s no passing the gold star baton back.

Sometimes it’s a sibling, a partner, or a best friend, the person who shared every inside joke, every ritual, every silly tradition that made the season special. Now you carry those memories alone, trying to honor what was, and grief, in its own quiet way, pulls up a chair beside you.

There is sadness woven through the holidays, and it often belongs to those who were fortunate enough to have once loved so completely that nothing else compares. Loss leaves quiet holes in our hearts. It leaves soft places that ache a little more in December. It takes time, so much time, to reach a point where remembering doesn’t bring tears. It takes time to feel something other than anger or bitterness that the very best parts of your life can no longer hug you back.

Life is delicate like that.

We all take turns carrying the losses. We all take turns needing someone to steady us. And if we’re lucky, truly lucky, we eventually shed the shell that held all that pain and begin to walk slowly toward happiness again.

So as the season unfolds, let’s remember this: not everyone is ready for Christmas parties, hot chocolate, matching pajamas, or the joyful chaos of presents on Christmas morning. Some people are simply trying to make it through.

Some are hiding under fuzzy red-and-green plaid blankets, doing their best to breathe.

Let’s cherish the happy times, absolutely. Let’s enjoy the beauty of the season, of course. But let’s also extend a hand, a heart, a gentle moment of grace to those who are hurting.

And perhaps that is the most meaningful thing we can place on our Christmas list this year.