"In the aftermath of the US presidential election, I’ve found myself navigating a whirlwind of emotions—anger, betrayal, grief, and resolve. This year, instead of resisting the premature arrival of holiday decorations, I surrendered. Perhaps we need the festive lights, the laughter of children, and the glimmer of hope they bring. Oh, how we need light.

Thanksgiving is a complicated season—a reminder of empty chairs and histories of injustice. Yet, amid the complexity, I find solace in the wisdom of ancestors and intentional village celebrations. In this time of uncertainty, we are called to let our light shine, even in the darkest moments."

This morning, as I prepared my son’s birthday breakfast, I was reminded of the traditions and rituals that ground us in our humanity and connect us to something greater. Growing up, my father showed his care by making breakfast every morning, believing a good day began with a full stomach. Today, I find myself continuing that tradition with my son, weaving his story into the communal liturgy of care that shaped me.

Reflecting on his birth in Mexico City, I am struck by how I was held by a village when my own plans unraveled. Women in the neighborhood welcomed us with love, their wisdom and rituals guiding me into motherhood. These moments of shared reliance and interconnection remind me that we are not made to go it alone. The liturgy of the “we” – traditions of care and presence – is sacred, teaching us to embody new postures of interdependence and hope for today’s challenges.