What If December Could Talk?

If December could talk, it would probably chuckle at the chaos it inspires every year. "Here we go again," it might say, watching people scramble to decorate, shop, and plan while juggling their regular routines. It would marvel at how its mere arrival turns everyone into planners, givers, and last-minute achievers.

But December would also carry a tone of nostalgia. “You love me for my lights and carols, but don’t forget, I hold your memories too,” it might remind us. For many, December is the keeper of first snows, family gatherings, and the bittersweet realisation that another year is coming to an end.

December might tease us a little, questioning our tendency to wait until its final weeks to express gratitude or reach out to loved ones. “You had 11 other months to show kindness,” it could joke, “but I’ll take the credit anyway.”

At the same time, December would be gentle. It knows it’s not all glitter and joy for everyone. “I see your quiet moments,” it might whisper. “It’s okay to feel tired or to grieve the things you’ve lost.” December would offer its stillness as a balm, reminding us that endings often bring reflection, and reflection brings growth.

In its final days, December would turn reflective itself. “Don’t rush me out,” it might plead. “I’m your bridge between what was and what could be. Use me wisely.”

If December could talk, it would likely remind us that it’s not just a month—it’s a feeling. A reminder to slow down, cherish what matters, and carry its spirit of giving and hope into the new year. And perhaps it would leave us with this: “Every month has its magic, but it’s what you do with it that counts.”