Welcome to Nourish, a free monthly(ish) newsletter to help you be kinder to yourself and others. In your December 2024 issue: a journaling prompt, cozy recipes and books for gifting, including a special sale on The Beauty of Motherhood.
Dear reader,
A thought dawned the other day: my sons are nearly eight and three, which means we’re in the golden years of Christmas.
When I was eight, Christmas tasted like fresh peanut butter blossom cookies with a melty Hershey kiss on top. It smelled like the fresh pine tree my brother and I chose with Dad from Abbey Farm then decked with multicolor twinkle lights and ornaments. It sounded like “Silent Night” and “Joy to the World,” sung by our church and accompanied by my mother, the organist. It felt like a toasty fire crackling in our fireplace while we feasted on honey baked ham and more on Christmas Day. It looked like white Christmas lights glowing against a dark night sky and shimmering over blankets of snow in suburban Chicago. Like my children now, I loved everything about Christmas.
Prior to Christmas Day, my chief concern was what I'd write on my wishlist. The American Girl catalogue arrived in our mailbox after Thanksgiving and contained 30+ pages of dolls, doll clothes and accessories galore. Even better, each doll represented her own era of American history and came with her own set of books.
Belly down on my bedroom carpet, I flipped through the catalogue’s glossy pages, inspecting their contents with the laser focus of an academic. Which American Girl doll would I ask for? Samantha had perfect brunette hair and a fancy Victorian checked dress — she seemed too prissy for me. Red-headed Felicity from colonial Williamsburg and Molly with her beret and glasses from World War II were intriguing, but not a good fit. A fan of the Little House series, I decided my favorite doll was Kirsten, with her blonde looped braids, light blue eyes and cornflower blue dress.
Kirsten lived in 1854 on a Minnesota farm with her Swedish immigrant family. She came with an amber heart necklace, a red checked bonnet and apron, and a wooden spoon. I imagined her akin to Laura Ingalls, romping through the prairie on all kinds of adventures. When I composed my wishlist, likely in loopy cursive with black pen on lined notebook paper, Kirsten’s name was at the top.
On Christmas morning, I crept down the staircase and sat before our sparkly Christmas tree, my body bouncing with anticipation. After unwrapping my very own Kirsten doll and book, I squealed and hugged her tightly. Then I hugged my mother. With one gift, Mom made me feel understood.
Kirsten and I went on many adventures together. I’d read her books, then act them out with my doll, often expanding her narratives. Through make-believe, Kirsten showed me the world was grander than McCarty Elementary, where I often felt out of place. Maybe it was because I’d moved there a year ago yet I was still considered new. Perhaps the reason was my glasses or my shy, bookish demeanor. I was beginning to understand that society had certain ideas about girls — that they should stay small, keep quiet and be supportive characters rather than leaders. Those ideas made me blue.
Kirsten taught me to see myself as the heroine of my story — powerful, worthy and brave. Her stories, which often captured day-to-day life in the late 1850s, helped me realize my stories of girlhood also mattered. I began writing new stories, some in notebooks and others lived. In time, I grew more confident at school and found a sense of belonging in McCarty’s gifted program.
Thirty years later, my husband and I are our family’s magic makers. This year Christmas tastes like fresh sugar cookies topped with cream cheese frosting and an aggressive amount of sprinkles (compliments of my youngest). It smells like bacon chili in the crockpot and a tangerine candle burning on the counter. It sounds like Pentatonix and Mannheim Steamroller carols on repeat as we drive to and from my oldest’s elementary school. It feels like cuddling under fleece blankets while watching Elf. It looks like traversing enchanting pathways, navigating a crowd and pausing to admire golden lanterns, flashing stars and tiny white lights strung in the shape of a cathedral at the Chicago Botanic Garden’s Lightscape.
I still have Kirsten, safely tucked away in our family’s storage unit. Even decades later, I need her. My struggles aren’t the same as they were when I was eight. Nevertheless, I still need to remember how to step into the role of heroine. I’m learning that sometimes the bravest thing I can do is ask for help, or be still and sit with my emotions. Other times it means choosing the bigger life, breaking the silence and speaking up for my values. She's just what I need to remember my influence shaping each chapter of my life — for good.
At the top of my oldest’s wish list this year is a Cat X baseball bat, while my youngest wants a MagnaTiles construction set. I want my kids to know that, whether they’re imagining themselves as an MLB player or a construction worker, they are the authors of their stories. They have the license to change their minds, make change and build a better world.
NOURISH YOURSELF
{journaling prompt} What does the holiday season taste like for you? Smell like? Sound like? Feel like? Look like? Write your own reflection on the holidays now using your five senses. Then, take yourself back in time and write how the holidays used to feel when you were a child. Finally, reflect on what’s changed, what’s stayed the same and what brings you the most joy. How can you seize more of that joy in the days ahead?
{create + feast} Some of my fondest holiday memories are rooted in treats and meals I’ve shared with others. For instance, press cookies with red and green sprinkles will forever be linked to visiting my grandmother in Louisiana after Christmas. This December, choose one dish or dessert you adore, craft it in an unhurried fashion, then savor it alone. Try this comforting, spicy-sweet Korean beef bowl. Simmer a pot of white chicken chili, then top a bowl with tortilla strips and avocado chunks. Be like my husband and finally use the springform pan we received on our wedding day (12 years ago!) to bake a classic cheesecake. Whip up a small batch of chocolate chip cookies *after* the kids are in bed. Whatever you choose, cook at an hour when you aren’t pressured to serve others. Remember, making time to nourish yourself is a means of resisting holiday people-pleasing and choosing self-care. Create with care. Eat and be present. Give thanks for the gift of daily bread.
NOURISH OTHERS
If you’re looking for gifts to round out your holiday shopping, may I suggest a beautiful book? A few of my favorites to gift:
{adults} Poetry Unbound: Brimming with poems curated by Pádraig Ó Tuama, this collection offers profound insights on life’s big questions.
The Comfort Book: This collection of gentle microessays is perfect for those in need of hope after a hard year; it’s a hug in a book.
I love to gift my favorite novel I read, which in 2024 is Tom Lake. Ann Patchett’s narrative prowess shines in this relatable, engrossing story of an actress whose role in “Our Town” shifts the course of her life forever.
{young readers} Because of Winn Dixie: The sweetest story about the power of friendship.
Cat Kid Comic Club series: An imaginative, zany graphic novel series that inspires kids to both read and create their own art? Yes, please. A Wrinkle in Time: My favorite childhood book takes young readers on a fantastic sci-fi journey, pointing them to the healing power of love.
{little kids} Cookies: Bite-Size Life Lessons:The art ofbaking, eating and sharing cookies becomes a metaphor for leading virtuous lives, which helps parents teach positive values (like honesty) in an accessible, fun way.
The Snowy Day:Gorgeous writing and illustrations on the magic of snow will leave kids dreaming of their next snow day.
Miss Rumphius: I absolutely adore this book that invites reflection on what it means to lead a purpose-filled life. So do my children.
Last but not least, The Beauty of Motherhood: Grace-Filled Devotions for the Early Years, which I wrote with
, makes a lovely gift for the expecting mom, the new mom or mom of preschoolers in your circle. Order through Amazon, Target, Barnes & Noble and other major retailers. To receive 25 percent off, purchase through our publisher and enter HOLIDAY25 at checkout. Find sample chapters here and here.
NOURISHING WORDS
On my nightstand:
Bite by Biteby Aimee Nezhukumatathil: In her follow up to World of Wonders, Nezhukumatathi offers more enchanting essays weaving memoir with facts, this time using foods as an anchor for each chapter.
Tell Me Everythingby Elizabeth Strout: This captivating novel set in Strout’s charming Crosby, Maine, is part murder mystery, part romance, part meditation on the quiet joys and tragedies of the human condition.
“In my quiet, twenty-first-century living room in rural Ohio, I am transfixed by this mother’s litany of questions, by the pain of a woman whose longings are met with only more longings – her fire will always need more coal.” –Kelsi Folsom, “For Such a King” in Plough
“May your Yuletide fortitude be as strong as your spiked eggnog. May you buy all the teacher gifts, remember which kid signed up to bring apple slices to the class party, and find time to buy those final presents. (May everything ship before Christmas.) May you release the things that didn’t get done and celebrate the ones that did. May you embrace the chaos. May you feel shivery awe. Above all, may you see it through their eyes and allow yourself to be dazzled.” –Jessica Folkema, “A blessing for the manic merrymakers (mothers)”
Thanks as always for reading this month’s Nourish. It’s a gift to connect with you here. If my words resonated or brought back memories of holidays past, share in the comments or send me a message. I’d love to hear from you!
For me, the greatest gift of Christmas is the promise of the Christ Child, Jesus, in whom we find true rest. In honor of Christmas, I’ve including one of my favorite Bible readings as our closing poem.
However you celebrate and whatever you believe, I hope you feel the warmth of this season and let it carry you into the new year refreshed and joyful. If you are grieving, may you find calm and comfort. If you are waiting and yearning, may you find hope. If you are struggling with the darkness, may you know you are not alone here — light is coming. Most of all, I hope you remember that you are deeply loved.
Wishing you a peaceful, wonder-filled holiday!
With love,
Erin
Now in that same region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.
But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” —Luke 2:8-14
Oh friend I adore all these sensory images and you took me right back to my own stories of American girls!! I always wanted Kirsten! But I loved my Felicity doll (and Molly too!)
Oh friend I adore all these sensory images and you took me right back to my own stories of American girls!! I always wanted Kirsten! But I loved my Felicity doll (and Molly too!)
It’s been a long time since reading something made me cry. Thank you. This is perfect.