Carrying the Christmas Spirit Forward

 Let’s take the best of Christmas, the kindness, the laughter, the love, into the New Year.

By the time the last of the wrapping paper has been stuffed into the recycling bin and the final crumbs of shortbread have mysteriously disappeared (I maintain they evaporate, but others insist I am the culprit), many of us begin to wonder: How do I carry this lovely feeling forward? The season has a way of wrapping us in soft light, warm music, and familiar scents, pine needles, cinnamon, and maybe that one candle we only light in December because it smells like “holiday cheer” mixed with “something burnt.”

But once January arrives, the world can feel a little plainer. The radio stations switch back to regular programming, the stores take down the garlands, and we reluctantly pack away the ornaments, promising ourselves we’ll remember which string of lights didn’t work this year. (We never do.)

And so, the question gently nudges us: Can we keep the Christmas spirit alive after the season fades?

It’s a lovely question, easy to ask, but harder to live out in March when the snow is grey and our patience for humanity begins to match the colour. Some of us, in a fit of optimism, tuck this intention into a New Year’s resolution. But as many of us know, resolutions tend to have the lifespan of a fruitcake at a family potluck, politely admired, rarely revisited.

Before you feel guilty, let me assure you: carrying the spirit of Christmas into the new year does not require grand gestures, excessive time, or a credit card bill that makes the bank raise an eyebrow. In fact, the quiet magic of Christmas resides in the small things.

Think about the sweetness of a simple “hello” exchanged in a checkout line in December. People seem a little more relaxed, a little more patient, and even the teenager bagging groceries cracks a smile when someone wishes him a good holiday. There’s a softness in the air, an unspoken agreement that we are all trying our best.

That softness is what we can carry.

Imagine this: it’s a chilly morning in February. You’re walking into your local café; shoulders hunched against the wind. You catch the eye of a stranger fumbling with their hat, and without thinking, you offer a warm smile. Suddenly the air feels just a little less cold. That’s the Christmas spirit, disguised in a winter coat.

Or picture the first week of April, nature waking up, birds singing, your neighbour once again mowing the lawn far too early in the day. You decide to phone an old friend, not because it’s a special occasion, but just to say, “I was thinking of you.” You can practically hear their heart lift through the phone. That, too, is the spirit of Christmas.

Maybe you’re driving in July, windows down, enjoying the breeze, feeling almost summery enough to forget about December altogether. A driver signals to merge. You pause, wave them in, and resist the instinct to mutter about everyone else’s apparent inability to read traffic signs. Congratulations, you’ve just performed a mid-year Christmas miracle.

And what about kindness toward ourselves? The holiday season is full of encouragement to be generous to others, but by mid-January, we often return to our old habit of being unreasonably hard on ourselves. What if we carried forward the gentleness, we offer others in December? What if we allowed ourselves rest without guilt, joy without justification, and mistakes without self-scolding?

Christmas, at its heart, is a celebration of hope. It’s that feeling we get when lights twinkle in a dark room, when we hear a familiar carol, or when someone unexpectedly hands us a piece of shortbread and says, “Go on, you deserve it.”

The good news? We don’t have to leave that feeling in December.

We can carry it in the way we open a door for someone, or in the patience we offer when a clerk asks, for the third time, “Did you find everything you were looking for today?” (You did not, but you answer kindly anyway.)
We carry it when we take a moment to say hello to the neighbour we usually wave at from a distance, or when we sit down with a friend over coffee and truly listen.
We carry it when we choose connection instead of rushing, patience instead of irritation, laughter instead of complaint.

Holiday decorations may come down, but kindness never needs storing in a box. The spirit of Christmas is not a season, it’s a practice. A habit of seeing the world with softer eyes and choosing compassion over convenience.

So, as the year turns, let’s keep the Christmas spirit alive in small ways. Let’s make it part of our everyday rhythm, one greeting, one smile, one kind deed at a time.

Hope doesn’t require snowflakes or jingling bells. Sometimes it looks like a friendly voice on the phone, a shared laugh over coffee, or a moment of unexpected patience on the road.

Carry the love and the laughter with you. Carry the kindness.
Keep the spirit alive.