Finding gratitude in the space between Christmas and New Year
- jorge1363
- 18 minutes ago
- 5 min read
Dear friends,
There’s something tender about this week between Christmas and New Year. It’s a strange, floaty space. Not quite the year that was, not yet the year that’s coming. It’s a quiet pause in the middle and a moment where the noise softens just enough for us to hear ourselves think.
This year, for us, that pause came wrapped inside a pile of schoolbooks.
In the lead-up to Amelia’s last day of Kindy, we have slowly had her bring home all her leftover bits and pieces from the year. Folders, artwork, worksheets, half-used exercise books… the usual end-of-year chaos. As we were sorting through the pile, in the middle of preparing for a new home, a new year, and our big relocation to Brisbane, I stumbled on something small and unexpected.
Her gratitude journal.

My heart skipped a beat. I wondered what was inside. We sat beside her and began reading it together. What surprised me most wasn’t what she wrote… but how simple it was, how pure the moments she shared and how genuine these drawings and scribbled notes hit my heart.
She was grateful for nature.
For her cousin’s dogs.
For her friends.
For the Vivid light show she saw this year.
For fireworks.
For Nan and Pa
For the library, Australia and the swings at the park
For her swimming lessons.
For the frangipani tree outside our flat.
She had drawn a picture that looked like a boat, but apparently it was actually a bowl of my homemade ice cream (which made me laugh, because of course it was). She wrote about movie nights on the couch, the excitement of her bed, whale watching, homemade pizzas, butterflies, scootering and playing Lego with me.
It made my heart sing that deep, quiet kind of singing that you feel deep down.
As I sat there reading her tiny notes, written in wonky little letters, it struck me:
Finding gratitude is never in the grand gestures. It’s tucked inside the smallest moments we barely notice.
A scooter ride.
Warm hands.
A tree outside the window.
Lego with mum.
It made me stop. Truly stop and consider all the things I had stopped seeing.
Her little book has given me a chance to sit with my own list of gratitude…
I’m grateful that on Friday nights, Jorge makes pizzas, making our creations before we watch a movie together.
I’m grateful for Pancake Sundays and how strange it would feel not to have them now.
I’m grateful for Amelia’s little voice asking, “Can we play?”
I’m grateful for friends who can’t wait for us to move to Brisbane… and equally grateful for the ones who say they’ll miss us, because it reminds me that our presence has mattered.
I’m grateful for being able to call my family in Europe and still feel close.
I’m grateful that we found a home and for all the people who helped us along the way.
I’m grateful for the family we’ll soon say goodbye to here, for their love and their steadiness.
I’m grateful that Amelia’s best friend still calls her even after moving to Belgium, a little reminder that connection has no kilometres.
And it brings me back to this simple truth:
Life is made of tiny moments. Gratitude is simply the art of noticing them.
Had her teacher not bundled up all that end-of-year chaos and sent it home, that mountain of artwork and paper we never quite know what to do with, I may never have found that journal, and for that chance moment alone… I am deeply grateful.
Here are a Few Gentle Prompts for Your Own Gratitude Practice
If you’re sitting in this quiet week too, here are some reflections to help you tune back in to what really matters:
What small moment this month made you smile without even realising?
What is something ordinary in your day that would feel strange if it disappeared?
Who surprised you with kindness this year?
What would your inner child write in their gratitude journal?
If you’re brave, ask your children to make their own gratitude list, let them draw it, colour it, scribble it. You may just discover what really matters to them… and it will likely be the things you already have.
Because gratitude isn’t loud.
It doesn’t arrive with fireworks.
It whispers in the little smiles, the eyes that connect and in the precious space that calls us home to ourselves.
And this week, between Christmas and New Year, is the perfect time to listen.
Happy New Year, everyone
All our love
Momentum Growth Coaching Family
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