Some Sundays end the way they should.
A good meal. Plates pushed back. Folks sitting around a little longer than planned. Nobody watching the clock. The talk wandering from one thing to the next, easy and unimportant in the best way. Somebody pours another cup of coffee or tea. Slices of pumpkin and pecan pies are served. Or maybe a slice of cake. Or two. And no one says much about it.
Those moments matter more than we sometimes realize at the time.
This morning in Honey Hill Country, the air feels different — softer somehow — as if the whole hollow has agreed to speak in a whisper. There is wood smoke lingering in the distance, a hush on the porch boards, and that rare kind of quiet that does not feel empty. It feels held.
Somewhere, a kettle is warming. Somewhere else, a pan of cinnamon rolls is nearly ready for the oven. Orange juice is being poured, chairs are being pulled close, and the day is just beginning to stretch awake.
And before the hours fill themselves with meals and messages, memories and visiting, Little Red Bear and I wanted to leave a small Christmas Blessing here — simple, neighbourly, and meant to be kept.
May your Christmas morning find you welcomed, whether your house is full of laughter and wrapping paper, or wrapped instead in a gentler quiet. Some folks wake today to stockings and noise and the happy clatter of family traditions. Others wake to softer rooms — and the quiet is not always easy.
So let this blessing be for both kinds of mornings.
For the full tables, and for the empty chairs.
For the hearts that feel light today, and for the ones doing their best just to carry kindness forward.
For joy that arrives easily — and for joy that must be noticed in smaller, braver ways.
May warmth find you today — in your kitchen, in your memories, or simply in the knowledge that you are not forgotten. May peace rest easy in your home, even if only for a moment at a time. And may the love that Christmas promises — quietly, faithfully, year after year — feel close enough to touch.
Little Red Bear padded in long enough to add this, and he insists it be included —
“If your heart feels full today, share it.
If it feels a little tender, guard it gently.
And either way — you belong at the table.”
From our little corner of Honey Hill Country to yours, we wish you a Christmas filled with warmth, grace, and the comfort of being held — by memory, by love, and by hope that still knows the way home.
— Jim (and Red!)
May warmth find your door, light fill your window, and peace know your name — this Christmas and always.
Merry Christmas.
As the year begins to slow down and we edge closer to Christmas, I have found myself thinking less about what was accomplished and more about what quietly mattered — the small moments, the kindnesses that did not make headlines but made days a little better.
A few evenings ago, Little Red Bear asked if he might stop by the Writing Pages for a few minutes to share some of the things that stayed with him this year. Not the grand events, but the everyday goodness he noticed along the way. I was glad to say yes — and this is his note.
As Christmas draws near each year, I find myself returning to a handful of stories that never lose their warmth — stories that remind us of who we were, who we are, and who we still hope to be. One of those is the classic newspaper reply known today simply as “Yes, Virginia.”
If you’ve ever paused during the holiday bustle and wondered where the magic of Christmas hides itself these days — haven’t we all felt that? — the history of this little letter has a way of lighting the lantern again. And like all good stories, there’s more to it than most folks remember.
Here is the story behind the story — the people, the newspaper, the unlikely pairing, and the words that continue to shine like a window candle more than a century later.
INTRODUCTION —
As we make our way through this busy December stretch, I thought it might be nice to pause for just a moment and share a quiet word from someone new in our Honey Hill world — someone many of you first met a few days ago in “The Lantern in Clara Thimblewick’s Window.”
Clara Thimblewick will soon be stepping into an important role in our community. Beginning in January, she will serve as the Editor of The Hearth
& Holler Gazette, guiding our weekly wanderings through Honey Hill, Hopper’s Holler, Round Corners, and beyond with a steady hand and a thoughtful eye.
After spending much of her life working in newspapers back East, Clara has returned to Missouri to take up this new post and, in her words, “to resume a more measured life than present-day city rhythms permit.”
As a small seasonal greeting — and an early chance to become acquainted — Clara wished to offer a brief message to readers here on The Writing Pages. I am delighted to share her note with you today.
A Holiday Note from Clara Thimblewick —
It is my hope that this message finds you in a moment of quiet, however small such moments may be in December. The soft light of winter has a
way of inviting reflection, even in the midst of the season’s many demands, and I am grateful for the opportunity to address you for the first time.
Although my name may be unfamiliar to you at present, please allow me to offer a brief introduction. I was raised in Missouri during childhood, later sent East for my schooling, and remained there for many years while building a career in the newspapers. I have now returned home to serve as Editor of The Hearth & Holler Gazette, a responsibility I accept with both humility and resolve. It is my intention to honor the stories of this
community with clarity, fairness, and respect.
There is much work ahead as we prepare the Gazette for its January debut. New ventures often bring with them a quiet sense of anticipation, and I feel it very keenly. In time, I hope to become a familiar presence in your weekly reading — not by insistence, but by steady and conscientious service.
For now, I simply wish to extend to you my warmest regard during this winter season. May the quieter hours be gentle company to you and may the small lights along your path — a lamp in a window, a friendly word, a simple kindness — bring you a measure of comfort as the year draws to its close.
With sincere respect,
Clara Thimblewick
Editor, “The Hearth & Holler Gazette”
CLOSING THOUGHTS —
I hope Clara’s note brought a touch of calm to your day. She will be joining us more regularly once the Gazette begins its weekly visits in January, and I am looking forward to the steady presence she will bring to our little corner of Honey Hill Country.
Thank you for reading and settin’ a spell with us today.
— Jim (and Red!)
If you would enjoy a weekly visit to Little Red Bear’s Honey Hill Country, you are already in the right place. A simple subscription to The Writing Pages is all that is required. Beginning in January, the Hearth & Holler Gazette will arrive automatically each week, bringing a small slice of Honey Hill Country to your doorstep.
P.S. from Little Red Bear — “Clara is too polite to say it, but I am not — you ought to sign up for the Gazette. Good things are on the way, and I would hate for you to miss out.”
The Christmas season has arrived again — lights twinkling in windows, cookie tins appearing on counters, and December settling over everything like a soft quilt. And after easing my way back into writing the other day, it felt like the right moment to open the doors wide and share something a little cheerful, a little familiar, and maybe even a little fun.
So today, I’ve gathered together a warm basketful of past Christmas and Holiday Features from the Writing Pages — stories, poems, memories, and
old-time favorites all in one easy place. Think of it as a “help yourself” buffet of seasonal comfort. No need to dress up. Pajamas are fully acceptable.
Little Red Bear wandered in while I was putting this together, just to see what all the fuss was about. When he realized I was collecting Christmas pieces for folks to enjoy, he gave me a gentle poke and said, “Now, don’t go forgettin’ my Happy Christmas Left/Right Gift Exchange Game. Folks always seem to have a good time with that one.”
He’s right — it’s one of the most popular little treasures we’ve ever shared, so it’s tucked safely into the basket for you. Just be ready for a bit of 
silliness… and maybe a few giggles as the game bounces left and right and back again.
So pour a cup of something warm, find a comfy chair, and settle in. Whether you’re looking for a smile, a bit of nostalgia, or something to share with little ones, I hope this collection adds a touch of brightness to your day.
And if a stray cookie or two goes missing while you’re reading… well, Red has been known to wander.
Little Red Bear asked me very politely—well, as politely as a bear hopped up on Christmas excitement can manage—to be sure this favorite made it into the
basket. His Happy Christmas Left/Right Gift Exchange Game is one of the most-visited features on the Pages every year, and if you’re looking for a good laugh with family or friends, it’s ready and waiting.
Just a fair warning from seasoned players — little ones have been known to insist on reshuffling the gifts and playing again… and again… and again. Holiday joy comes in many forms, doesn’t it?
Perfect for Family Gatherings, Classrooms, Holiday Parties, and Christmas Eve Fun — enjoy the laughter, the chaos, and the magic!
Little Red Bear asked me to remind you that good stories—much like good cookies—are always better when shared. He even suggested I hide a cookie or two inside this post to make things more interesting, but I told him we’d save that mischief for another day.
Still, if one of these Christmas features brings you a smile, a chuckle, or a warm memory, I hope you’ll pass it along to someone who might enjoy a little seasonal cheer. A simple story shared at just the right moment can be a small kindness — and goodness knows the world can always use more of those, can’t it?
Thank you for making this little corner of the world such a welcoming and friendly place. Your visits, your warmth, and your company here on the Writing Pages mean more to me than I can say.
From both Red and me, warmest wishes for a holiday season filled with joy, peace, and the gentle magic that seems to hover in the air this time of year.
— Jim (and Red!)
And if you’d like to stop back by on Tuesday, I’ll have another warm December visit waiting for you. A nice way to continue the season together, don’t you think?
x
James Milson - The Writing Pages 