Days of Kindness

December has a way of softening the world, or at least reminding us that it can be softened. The air feels crisper, as if it’s been freshly washed; lights twinkle on rooftops; and even the grocery store seems to hum with a quieter kind of goodwill. There’s something about this season that brings out our longing to give, to brighten someone else’s day, to feel connected.

And yet, in the rush toward Christmas, many of us fall into the trap of thinking that only the grand gestures count, the oversized donations, the extravagant gifts, the “surprise news segment” stories that go viral. But if I’ve learned anything over the past 70+ years, it’s that the real heart of the season lies in the small, everyday acts we offer one another.

This year, I’m encouraging everyone to start today and do one simple act of kindness each day until Christmas. Nothing complicated, nothing heroic. Just tiny sparks of goodwill. Little lights that add up. Let’s light up lives, one smile at a time.

I think of a friend of mine who lives this truth year-round. When he passes someone asking for help on the street, he doesn’t reach for his wallet. Instead, he stops. He looks the person in the eye. He listens, really listens, as they share whatever part of their story they feel ready to tell.

And when they’re finished, he doesn’t offer a lecture or advice. He simply asks, with calm sincerity:
“Would you like to join me for lunch or breakfast?”

Sometimes the person says yes. Sometimes they don’t. But either way, my friend offers the rarest gift many people receive: the gift of being seen.

He tells me that’s what most people want, not money, not pity, but recognition that they aren’t invisible. That they matter. And isn’t that the heart of kindness? Not the value of the gesture, but the value of the human being in front of us.

At this time of year, everyone wants to spread joy. You can almost feel it in the air, like cinnamon warming in the oven. But somewhere along the way, many people start believing that kindness must be big to be meaningful.

Yet think back on your own life. How many times did a small word or gesture help you through a hard day? A smile from a stranger? Someone holding a door? A neighbour waving from across their yard? A handwritten note tucked under your door when you least expected it?

Those are the things that linger long after the tinsel is boxed up.

When I was younger, long before everything became digital and instant, December was filled with these small human moments, those little ripples of kindness that seemed to tie the community together. Neighbours dropped off plates of shortbread wrapped in wax paper. Children sang carols door-to-door in slightly off-key but enthusiastic harmony. Someone always shoveled someone else’s walkway “just because.” And you could tell, even then, that these weren’t grand gestures, they were invitations to connection.

Kindness today can be just as simple.

Smile at a stranger while you’re out for a walk.
Say hello to the people you pass.
Phone an old friend just to check in.
Offer to pick something up for a neighbour.
Let someone go ahead of you in line.
Compliment a clerk who has clearly had a long day.
Notice someone who looks alone, and offer a moment of warmth.

Even joy itself can be a gentle act of kindness. If you’ve ever stopped to listen to carolers, even the ones who are a little unsure of the lyrics, you know how powerful music can be. There’s something magical about hearing voices blend in the cold December air. It reminds us that connection doesn’t always require conversation; sometimes it only requires listening.

In the evenings, when the streets glow with holiday lights and the sound of laughter floats through open doorways, it becomes easier to remember that joy doesn’t need an audience. Kindness doesn’t need applause. It only needs intention.

And here’s the beautiful thing: once you start offering small acts of kindness, you notice more opportunities to give them. It becomes almost like a quiet treasure hunt. You realize how many people around you could use a little lift, and how often you can be the one to give it.

If we each commit to one small act a day between now and Christmas, imagine the ripple we could create. Not a tidal wave, not a spectacle, just gentle waves of goodwill traveling from person to person, warming homes and hearts one moment at a time.

Let this be our December tradition:
Kindness. Spread joy. Keep the Christmas spirit alive in the little things.

Because the smallest lights often shine the brightest, especially in winter. And sometimes, all it takes is a single smile to remind someone that the world is still full of goodness.