I was only away for one Christmas. Thank God.
Still, that Christmas changed me in ways I continue to carry into my life and leadership today.
Christmas in prison does not look the way most people imagine the holidays. There are no early mornings with excited kids or familiar traditions. There is structure, silence, and a deep awareness of what you are missing.
And yet, we tried to make it festive.
Some of the women organized a performance and sang Mary Did You Know. Their voices echoed off concrete walls. For a few minutes, women carrying regret, fear, and longing stood tall and offered something beautiful.
One woman had been a baker on the outside. Inside, she became our baker. She made desserts that felt comforting and familiar, almost unbelievable in that setting. We sang carols together. Not polished. Honest.
Still, when it quieted down, the ache returned.
By September, I had learned how to crochet. If you know me, you know how unexpected that was. I am not domestic. I had never crocheted a thing in my life. But I needed something that connected me to my kids.
So I made them blankets.
I graphed each of their names into the pattern, one square at a time. My fingers cramped. I made mistakes. I unraveled and started over more times than I can count. Every stitch carried intention.
That was my gift to them that year. Not perfection. Presence.
I wanted them to feel my love in the yarn. To know that even though I was physically absent, I was still choosing them every day.
That Christmas taught me a lesson I now see clearly in leadership.
When circumstances are out of your control, alignment matters more than outcomes.
You may not be able to fix the situation. You may not be able to undo the past. But you can choose how you show up inside it. You can act in ways that reflect your values, even when options are limited.
I work with leaders who feel trapped by pressure, regret, or decisions they wish they could redo. The work is not about erasing the past. It is about returning to alignment in the present.
This season holds joy and grief at the same time for many people. If you are missing someone, or your life does not look the way you thought it would, connection still finds a way.
Sometimes through music. Sometimes through shared food. Sometimes through yarn and a name stitched into a blanket.
And sometimes through the courage to face reality while staying true to who you are.