November has arrived here in New England. The last of the autumn leaves are clinging stubbornly to the trees, and the remaining Halloween candy has been tucked away in a cabinet—not quite hidden well enough, I’m afraid!
The days are growing shorter, the evenings darker, and already my thoughts are drifting toward Christmas.
I find myself thinking about my vintage ornaments, the Christmas tree, and the familiar decorations I’ve collected over the years. Maybe I’ll start small this year. Replace the batteries in my window candles and enjoy their warm glow as darkness settles over the neighborhood. There’s something so comforting about those little lights shining through the windows on a chilly November evening.
Although I’m busy putting the finishing touches on A Spring Garden, the next book in my Seasons of Faith series, Christmas is never far from my thoughts.
And neither are the characters in A Christmas Room.
Sometimes, I feel especially close to Sarah. I’ll catch sight of a cardinal at the birdfeeder or perched among the branches of the pine tree, its brilliant red feathers standing out against the changing landscape. I’ll stop for a moment, smile, and whisper a quiet thank-you to God.
There’s so much beauty in this world, even during unsettled times. Sometimes we simply need to slow down long enough to notice it.
Other times, I recognize a little of myself in Katherine. I find comfort in familiar routines, in caring for others, in doing the little things that make someone else’s day a bit easier. A meal prepared, a kind word offered, a helping hand when it’s needed. I’ve always believed that love often reveals itself in the simplest ways.
And perhaps that’s why these characters have become such a meaningful part of my life.
Sarah, Billy, Katherine, Frank, Julie, Jake, Sean, and little Maddy—they’re fictional, of course, but to me, they’ve become wonderfully familiar. I care about what happens to them. I think about how they feel, how they respond to life’s challenges, how they love one another, and how their faith carries them through both the ordinary and extraordinary moments.
My own faith is deeply rooted in my life, and I hope that part of me shines through the pages of these stories. Not because my characters have perfect lives or always know the right thing to do, but because they keep finding their way back to love, hope, and trust in God.
That’s really what A Christmas Room means to me.
It’s a story about family, loss, second chances, and the extraordinary ways God’s love can touch our lives. It’s about remembering those we’ve loved, recognizing blessings we might otherwise overlook, and believing that heaven may be closer than we imagine.
And now, with November settling in, I find myself looking forward to Christmas much as Sarah did.
Perhaps I’ll begin gathering my decorations and save the tree for last. Or maybe I’ll wait another week. I’m not quite sure yet.
For now, I’ll teach my piano students, prepare dinner, take Cooper outside, and go about the familiar routines of an ordinary day.
And somewhere along the way, I’ll stop to admire the last golden leaves, listen to the birds, or enjoy the soft glow of a candle in the window.
I’ll thank God for another day, for the people I love, and for the simple blessings that make life beautiful.
Because sometimes, the most extraordinary gifts are found in the most ordinary moments.
And isn’t that part of the wonder of Christmas?
If you haven’t yet visited the Ellis family, I’d love to welcome you into their world.
A Christmas Room: A Tale of Faith, Love & Light is the first book in my Seasons of Faith series. Available on Amazon in paperback, Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and audiobook, with a hardcover edition coming soon.
Wishing you a November filled with gratitude, hope, and little reminders of God’s love.
Ellen M. DuBois
