“We are not hungry for what we’re not getting,
but for what we’re not giving.” ~ Anne Lamott
As the holiday season approached this year, I found myself unexpectedly heavy. A quiet lethargy settled in, along with a sadness I couldn’t quite shake. After some gentle inner listening, it became clear: grief had finally found room to arrive.
My mother died in early 2024, but last year’s holidays were buoyed by joy. Thanksgiving flowed straight into my son’s wedding celebrations, and our family was wrapped in excitement and connection. Then, just before Christmas, everything shifted. My husband was diagnosed with heart failure, and we had to cancel a long-anticipated family trip to Hawaii—meant to honor my mom and gather in the home she had loved so deeply.
This year, without that swirl of celebration, I felt the full weight of what was missing. Not just my mom, but the rituals we shared—baking, decorating, lingering in the kitchen together. And the loss of the family home where we had gathered for holidays for nearly sixty years.
I knew enough about grief to know I couldn’t rush it. So I let myself sit with the sadness. Thanksgiving itself—hosted beautifully by my brother and sister-in-law—was warm and nourishing, and far too short. In the weeks that followed, I practiced holding joy and sorrow side by side, trusting that resilience doesn’t mean choosing one or the other, but making room for both. I also knew I wasn’t alone. For many people, the holidays are complicated terrain.
hen came a gift I didn’t know I was waiting for.
The Ukrainian nonprofit PORUCH Space in Kyiv, which works with displaced families and children—often in bomb shelters—reached out to us for training and support. Every day, PORUCH staff and volunteers welcome children and teens carrying enormous stress: young people who have lost homes, routines, and a basic sense of safety. PORUCH offers what families urgently need—psychologist-led groups, spaces to play and reconnect, parent support circles, and a caring community that eases the loneliness and trauma of displacement.
Yesterday, Kristie and I met this extraordinary team and led our first short training in the We Are Resilient™ approach. These women are deeply committed to building a brighter future for Ukraine, and they understand something essential: mentally healthy adults and children are the foundation of long-term healing. They are eager—hungry—for tools that help them sustain this work.
And I realized I had been hungry, too. This opportunity reminded me of a deeper truth: we are nourished when we give—it expands our sense of connection and brings meaning to our lives.
This holiday season, we invite you into that connection. When you give to Dovetail Learning, you are supporting Ukrainian children, their families, and the staff and volunteers who walk alongside them every day. You are also making it possible for us to continue offering scholarships and support to others who come to us with deep need, open hearts, and a desire to become steadier, kinder versions of themselves.
With Resilience,
Meri, Kristie, Emily, Arlene and the Dovetail Learning team