When Christmas Really Comes.

"Christmas comes when we don't want to seem more than we are."

On Christmas Day, the world slows down for a moment.

Not everywhere, not for everyone—but there is a brief time when silence finds its way more easily.

A man woke up early.

There were no children in the house, excitedly running to the tree.

There was no urgent preparation.

Just the morning.

He put the water on for coffee, looking out the window as he did so.

Hardly a car passed on the street.

It wasn't snowing, but there was still something festive in the air—

not because of the decorations, but because today there was nothing to prove.

He thought of the people he had met throughout the year.

Those he had helped.

Those he couldn't.

Those he had said something to and didn't dare to.

He realized that Christmas was not a reckoning.

Not a balance sheet.

Not a list.

Christmas is the moment when one can afford not to be strong.

The phone rang in the morning.

It wasn't a long conversation.

Just:

"Merry Christmas."

"To you too."

And yet there was more to it than many hours of words at other times.

In the afternoon, he went for a walk.

Not with a goal.

Just like that.

An old man was sitting on a bench in the park.

They weren't talking.

They just nodded to each other.

That was enough.

On the way home, he understood something he had only suspected:

Christmas isn't born from having many people around us,

but from not closing our hearts to even one person who is alone today.

In the evening, he lit a candle.

Not out of tradition.

Out of memory.

He didn't wish for anything.

He just let the light be there.

And in that silence, where there was no need to comply, no need to solve, no need to foresee, Christmas finally arrived.

Not in gifts.

Not in words.

But in that simple realization:

It's good to be here.

It's good to live.

To remain a good person.

At Christmas, you don't have to fix everything.

You don't have to be strong.

You don't have to explain the past year.

It's enough to stop for a moment and allow yourself to be silent.

The light is not lit at this time to shine, but to remind us: we are not alone on the path.

If fewer words are spoken today, it is not a lack.

If more silence remains, it is not an emptiness.

Christmas does not ask us to be perfect, only to be present.

And that is enough.

I wish you a blessed, peaceful Christmas.