It’s easy to be generous in December. The season practically invites it. Holiday music swells, donation drives pop up on every corner, and the whole world seems to soften a little—if only for a few weeks. But for me, true generosity isn’t about the holiday calendar. It’s about daily, deliberate acts of care. It’s about giving all year long.

I was raised with a strong sense of reciprocity. Not in the transactional sense—but in the soulful one. If you have more than you need, you share. If someone’s carrying a heavy load, you help lighten it. If you see beauty, you offer it. That kind of generosity doesn’t wait for a holiday to appear on the calendar. It lives in the quiet corners of our lives: a handwritten note, a flower clipped from your own garden, a container of chicken soup to a sick friend, a spontaneous lunch for someone who didn’t expect it.

The Little Gifts That Matter
People often think of giving in terms of big gestures—wrapped boxes, grand donations, dramatic surprises. But I’ve always believed the most meaningful gifts are the ones that feel tailored, personal, and even small. A guest towel that feels like silk. A bundle of peonies for no reason. A tray of fresh-baked cookies just because it’s Wednesday and a smile needs to wrap a face.

I keep my kitchen stocked with simple gifts: candles, soaps, a bar of dark chocolate with beautiful packaging. Not because I expect company, but because I love the feeling of offering something thoughtful—something that says, I see you. I thought of you. And yes, sometimes those gifts are for strangers.

Generosity as a Way of Living
What I’ve come to realize is that generosity, like beauty, is a way of life. It’s a posture. A rhythm. A way of moving through the world that makes space for others—not just when it’s convenient, but especially when it’s not.

And while I adore the rituals of December—the twinkling lights, the seasonal wrapping, the pleasure of a perfect bow—I’m just as moved by the quiet, unadorned gift given in July. Or March. Or a rainy Monday in September. The ones no one sees but that still land exactly where they’re needed.

In the Spirit of Happily Ever Always™
When I talk about Happily Ever Always™, I’m not describing a fairy tale ending. I’m describing a way of being. Of anchoring life in comfort, care, and consciousness. And giving—genuinely, generously, without ceremony or expectation—is one of the purest expressions of that.

To give well is to pay attention. To anticipate need. And when you live that way, the whole world becomes more beautiful—because you’ve helped make it so.

What This All Reminds Me
Whether it’s December or June, the same truth holds: generosity is soulful, not seasonal. It’s not about having more to give—it’s about giving from who you are.

So yes, I’ll be delivering holiday treats to neighbors this month. Yes, I’ve wrapped a few perfectly chosen gifts. But I’ll also keep giving the way I always do: with intention, with beauty, and with an open heart. All year long.