At Christmas, a hug isn't a social formality: it's a language. It says "I'm here," "I see you," "I forgive you," "thank you." While we celebrate the birth of Jesus—without rituals—this time of year confronts us: when did we choose appearances over truth? Where did we do right? Where did we fail? A sincere hug doesn't mask the truth; it sets things right . It lowers our guard, disarms our pride, and makes human the conversation we avoid all year.

A true hug is complete presence: phone off, breaths meeting, silence that doesn't judge. It's recognizing that life isn't just about achieving goals, but also about timely reconciliations. There are hugs that ask for forgiveness without words; others that close chapters with gratitude; some that say, "I'm still here, count on me," when spirits are low. An honest hug doesn't buy peace: it builds it .

This era invites us to soberly review:

• What we did well: consistency, care, words that added up.

• What we did wrong: reactions, absences, empty promises.

• What we are going to change: clear boundaries, simple habits, verifiable actions.

An embrace becomes a commitment when it's sustained by decisions: listening more attentively, speaking respectfully, serving without self-promotion, asking for help, telling the truth even when it trembles. It's not about "being perfect," but about being more authentic . Christmas has meaning when we stop playing roles and choose the path that makes us better for others: less mask, more heart; less "everything's fine," more "I'm here."

If there are empty chairs, let's embrace the memory with tenderness and live the present with purpose. If there are wounds, let the first stitch be a hug that opens the door to dialogue. Because a hug, when it's real, is not an end: it's a beginning.

“Above all, clothe yourselves with love , which binds everything together in perfect harmony .” — Colossians 3:14