I love 'O Holy Night.' On Christmas Eve, there's a service at the

Host: The evening had settled gently, with the dim light of dusk filling the room. A soft breeze fluttered through the open window, carrying the faint sound of the world outside — distant conversations, the hum of a passing car — but the room inside was still, peaceful. The light from the window illuminated Jeeny, who sat at the table, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea, the steam curling slowly in the quiet. Jack stood by the window, his gaze far off, as though lost in thought. The world outside felt distant, almost irrelevant to the moment at hand.

Host: The room was filled with a soft silence, the kind that came before something important was said. Jeeny sat, waiting, as if considering something deeply. Finally, her voice broke the quiet, soft but full of an unspoken intensity.

Jeeny: “I was thinking about something Rachel Boston said: ‘I love ‘O Holy Night.’ On Christmas Eve, there’s a service at the church where I grew up, and at midnight, we would always sing, ‘O Holy Night’ with candles.’ Do you think that’s true, Jack? That traditions, those small moments — like Christmas Eve, singing carols in the church — hold a kind of power, a way of connecting us to something deeper?”

Jack: He turned, his expression unreadable, the faintest trace of skepticism on his face. “I get the appeal. Traditions can be comforting, I guess. Christmas has a way of making people feel more connected, more together. But let’s be real here: how much of it is just habit? Christmas music, family dinners — they become part of the background, don’t they? We do it every year, but does it really have meaning, or are we just going through the motions? There’s a part of me that feels like we rely on these traditions to create meaning, but is it really the tradition, or just the comfort of the familiarity?”

Jeeny: She shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes steady as she listened to his words. “But isn’t that what makes them special, Jack? The familiarity, the fact that tradition gives us something to hold onto, something that reminds us of what really matters. Singing ‘O Holy Night’ with candles, year after year — it’s not just a song, not just a ritual. It’s a reminder of connection, of love, of something bigger than ourselves. Sure, we might go through the motions, but when we stop and really feel it, it holds a kind of magic, doesn’t it? That’s what makes it powerful.”

Jack: He crossed his arms slightly, still not entirely convinced. “But doesn’t the very fact that we do it every year make it lose its significance? I mean, isn’t tradition just a way of checking off boxes? Christmas Eve rolls around, we light the candles, we sing the song, and it feels nice. But does it really change anything? Are we really present, or just following the same old pattern, trying to make it feel meaningful?”

Jeeny: Her eyes softened, her voice gentle but firm as she responded. “It’s about what you bring to it, Jack. Tradition doesn’t lose its power on its own — it’s how you engage with it. The song might be the same, the setting might be the same, but each year is different. You bring new experiences, new emotions, new memories into it. That’s where the meaning lies — not in doing the same thing over and over, but in how we experience it each time. Christmas is not just about the ritual, but about the people we share it with, and how it allows us to connect on a deeper level. The tradition creates a space for that connection.”

Jack: His expression shifted, as though he was starting to understand, but wasn’t quite ready to fully let go of his skepticism. “I get that, I do. But doesn’t that mean we’re putting too much pressure on a single moment, on a song, to make everything feel meaningful? What happens when we don’t feel connected? What if it doesn’t have the same impact one year? Are we then failing at the tradition, or just realizing that maybe meaning doesn’t have to be tied to one thing?”

Jeeny: Her eyes met his, her voice soft but unwavering. “Maybe it’s not about feeling connected all the time. Maybe it’s about simply being open to the moment, even when it’s not perfect. Tradition isn’t about forcing a feeling. It’s about creating a space for it to happen. Christmas Eve, singing ‘O Holy Night’, the candles — it’s a space where we can slow down, remember what’s important, and connect with what we’ve lost sight of. It doesn’t have to be perfect, Jack. It just has to be real.”

Host: The room was quiet now, the weight of their conversation settling like a soft truth in the space between them. Jack stood still, his gaze distant as if reflecting on the depth of what Jeeny had said. Jeeny sat, her posture relaxed, a quiet satisfaction in the understanding between them. The evening outside had darkened fully, but the light in the room remained, warm and steady, as if the conversation had lit a spark of connection.

Jack: “Maybe I’ve been overthinking it. It’s not about making everything perfect. It’s about finding meaning in the simple things, even when they’re repeated. It’s about being present, and appreciating the moments we get.”

Jeeny: Her smile was soft, her eyes filled with warmth. “Exactly. Tradition isn’t about perfection, Jack. It’s about remembering that we have these moments to connect, to appreciate what we have, and to create something meaningful, even when it’s familiar.”

Host: The night had fully arrived, but the room felt warmer now, filled with a quiet understanding. Jack and Jeeny had found common ground in their realization that tradition, like Christmas, was not about the rituals themselves but about the connection they fostered. The song, the candles, the moments shared were what made the tradition powerful. And it was in those moments of connection that true meaning could be found.

The evening closed with that shared understanding, the quiet truth between them echoing in the stillness of the room.