Christmas. It’s been my favorite holiday ever since I was old enough to take in the exhilarating mood and unique scents and hues of the season.

As a youngster, the glamour of houses dressed in multicolored lights and indoor trees glittering with tinsel captivated me—sparkling accents piercing the deep, dark cold of winter nights. But I also sensed early on the reverent awe that infused candlelit services devoted to telling the story of the Christ child’s miraculous birth.

Factored in, of course, was the breath-catching anticipation of waking at dawn on December 25th. Of sitting at the top of the stairs with big brother Robbie, awaiting the parental go-ahead. Of racing down to pass around colorful, foil-wrapped packages from grandparents, aunts, and uncles miles away. This exercise likely planted in my eager young brain seeds of desire for treasures soon to be revealed.

But I also learned from the gift exchange ritual to take joy in offering others that same opportunity for delight. There were the red plastic dime store earrings shaped like bells that I gave my mother when I was in third grade. An even prouder moment, at age twelve, climaxed weeks of one-dollar layaway deposits on a rhinestone cuff bracelet purchased for her from a real jewelry store.

And decades later, the pleasure of a Christmas morning call from Dad and [stepmom] Zelda phoning from Florida to thank us for the six-gallon tin of holiday goodies we had sent. As Zelda doled out words of gratitude, I could hear Dad in the background in the throes of experiencing it. “Ooh, look at this one!” he declared with childlike glee as he discovered the foot-long pretzel sticks dipped first in caramel, then chocolate, then rolled in chopped pecans. She laughed at the sheer fun of it when, seconds later, he was back at her elbow enthusiastically waving a few red and green saran-wrapped popcorn balls in the air.

That moment changed my attitude toward seasonal baking from casual to committed. I compiled a list of people whose celebrations might be brightened by the gift of homemade goodies—sent across the miles or delivered next door—and launched a recurring mania that persists to this day.

So, while fully devoted to commemorating the Savior’s birth as a blessed event so monumental that it determined the timeline of history, and while intent on spreading the glad tidings to a world busily striving to redefine that history, I remain a bit obsessed with my own method of sharing the Good News: the annual preparation of dozens of treats—from caramel corn to seasoned, roasted almonds; from Russian tea cakes to white chocolate macadamia nut cookies; from fantasy fudge to cranberry-orange pecan bark. Thus, through sugar and butter and dark chocolate chips, I immerse myself in the spirit of giving and of witnessing to Hope.

Christmas 2022: May you find Hope, Peace, and Joy in the immeasurable blessing of God's Greatest Gift.