In my East Bay hometown of Berkeley, neighborhoods set out luminarias each Christmas Eve. These paper bags, anchored with sand and aglow with tealight candles, shine brightly for a few hours year after year. They are lit just after dinnertime on the cold, dark, and sometimes wet late-December evening. With only a few cars passing by, friends and families spanning generations—and often with pets in tow—stroll along the sidewalks and through the streets, enjoying the warm light and peaceful night together. Sometimes there’s laughter and chatter; other times, folks walk in silence. This year, we heard carols bellowing from a portable speaker on one street and a musician playing violin on another corner. One neighbor even hosts an annual hot chocolate station in front of their home, where people line up to grab a cup and share in the experience.
Unlike the illuminated Jack-O-Lanterns perched on a few doorsteps each Halloween, this temporary display of lights stretches for blocks and blocks along the sidewalks. Neighborhood groups self-organize to create a collective experience that benefits the entire community. Everyone pitches in a little bit. There’s advance planning—some procure supplies, while others open their homes for distribution. On the day itself, some neighbors handle setup or cleanup. Others contribute resources, like funds for materials or trucks for transport. Each small act contributes to a larger transformation: neighborhoods turn into spaces of shared enjoyment for everyone, including those simply out for an evening stroll.
Each year, when I find myself walking my local streets on December 24, I am moved and inspired by all the neighbors who simply say, “Yes.” They agree to do their part, taking on specific tasks that contribute to a greater outcome. As I stroll through the glowing streets, I see so clearly what communities can accomplish when unified by a shared purpose and the collective willingness to pitch in.
Some friends who live on a participating block tell me their favorite part of the experience is meeting up with neighbors out on the street while the luminarias are lit—catching up, wishing one another Happy Holidays, and sharing hopes for a healthy New Year ahead. With a common purpose, it becomes easier to come together in real life—in shared time and space—to appreciate and invest in community.
It takes small acts, performed by many, to make the magic happen. Yes, I’ll pick up the supplies. Yes, I’ll pour the sand. Yes, I’ll set out the bags in front of my home—and for the neighbor who’s out of town. Yes, I’ll light the candles. Yes, I’ll help clean up in the morning. Each small act contributes to an outcome far greater than the sum of its parts.
The Hanukkah song Banu Choshech L’Garesh reminds us that “Each of us is one small light. All together, we shine bright.” As we enter 2025, a year filled with unknowns, I wish you the opportunity to say “Yes” when invited to do your part in building community beyond your doorstep. Share your one small light.
