Home for the Holidays (Even Before We’re Home)

Despite the warm weather and the surprising lack of snow this season, the holidays still seem to arrive with their familiar mix of nostalgia, anticipation, and quiet longing. Even without frosted windows or icy sidewalks, there’s something unmistakable in the air—a collective pause, a turning inward, and a deep desire to be close to the people who matter most. For those of us building Gratitude Village, this time of year feels especially tender. We’re not there yet, but we can feel it. Home is coming.

As we look ahead to the holidays, we’re also looking ahead to the day when we’ll celebrate them together in a place we’ve intentionally created—one rooted in connection, sustainability, and shared life. The absence of snow doesn’t dampen that excitement; if anything, it sharpens it. Because the real warmth of the season doesn’t come from weather at all—it comes from people.

Recently, we gathered for a virtual holiday party, a reminder that community can exist even before walls are built or keys are handed over. Some of our future residents currently live out of state, and while we missed being in the same room, the spirit of togetherness was unmistakable. Smiles filled screens that were bedecked with cute holiday backdrops and participants wore Santa hats and ugly sweaters. Stories were shared. Traditions were remembered and imagined. And slowly, beautifully, the vision of future holidays at Gratitude Village came into focus.

One of the first traditions people mentioned was cookie baking—a simple act that somehow carries generations of meaning. There was talk of family recipes handed down, flour-dusted countertops, and the joy of baking not just for ourselves, but for one another. In our shared vision, cookie baking becomes less about perfection and more about presence. Kids sneaking tastes of dough. A cookie exchange with neighbors trading batches. A common kitchen filled with warmth, mess, and laughter. It’s easy to imagine the smell of cinnamon and chocolate drifting through the village, pulling people together without a single word needing to be said.

Decorating was another tradition that sparked excitement. Not just decorating individual homes, but shared spaces too—garlands in the common house, luminarias and lights along walkways, handmade ornaments created together year after year. There’s something powerful about decorating collectively. It transforms space into place. It tells a story of belonging. At Gratitude Village, decorating isn’t about matching aesthetics; it’s about shared care and shared celebration.

Crafting naturally followed. Holiday crafts—whether simple paper snowflakes, cranberry and popcorn chains, handmade cards, or more elaborate projects—offer a chance to slow down and create together. These moments matter. They give us opportunities to sit side by side, to talk without an agenda, to let creativity bridge generations. In a world that often feels rushed and fragmented, making something with our hands—together—becomes a quiet act of resistance and joy.

Of course, no holiday season would be complete without movies. As we shared favorite films, a collective playlist began to form: Christmas with the Cranks, The Holiday, Love Actually, The Santa Clause trilogy, A Charlie Brown Christmas, Last Christmas, White Christmas, The Polar Express, A Biltmore Christmas, Miracle and 34th Street, Love Hard and It’s a Wonderful Life. These are the movies we return to year after year—not because they change, but because we do. Watching them together in the future—curled up in the common house, kids sprawled on the floor, adults lingering over mugs of something warm—feels like a promise. Familiar stories, shared laughter, and moments of quiet reflection woven into community life.

Music, too, holds a special place in the season. Favorite songs like Carol of the Bells, Mary Did You Know, O Holy Night, and yes—even Last Christmas—sparked smiles and memories. When caroling came up, faces lit up. Caroling isn’t just about singing; it’s about showing up. About moving through shared space together. About offering joy without expecting anything in return. It’s easy to imagine voices echoing through the village, imperfect and heartfelt, reminding us all that we’re part of something bigger.

And then there’s Secret Santa—a tradition that perfectly captures the spirit of cohousing. Thoughtful, playful, and rooted in knowing one another. It’s not about the gift itself, but the intention behind it. The quiet observation. The small acts of kindness. The joy of giving anonymously and receiving with gratitude. In a community like Gratitude Village, these exchanges become threads in a much larger tapestry of care.

As this holiday season unfolds, many of us will celebrate in familiar ways, in familiar places. But there’s also a collective holding of something new—an emerging sense of what’s possible when people choose to build life together. Gratitude Village may not yet be built, but it’s already alive in shared stories, shared traditions, and shared hope.

So this year, even without snow, we’re looking forward—to the holidays, to one another, and to the day when these traditions move from imagination into daily life. Until then, we’ll keep gathering, keep dreaming, and keep building community—one conversation, one tradition, one shared vision at a time.

From all of us at Gratitude Village, may your holidays be filled with warmth, connection, and the quiet joy of knowing that home—however you define it—is closer than it seems.