Read by Matilda Longbottom

January is a time for new beginnings and fresh starts. That can sometimes be hard for a person like me, as I am a creature of habit. I like having the same rituals and traditions year after year, holding fast to the comforting rhythms that give shape to the passage of time. My town has a charming New Year’s Eve tradition called Starry Starry Night, and it’s become a fun way for my family and me to welcome each new year.

This celebration is a simple event, yet it holds a special place in our hearts. The entire town comes together for Starry Starry Night, with local businesses sponsoring everything from the parade to the festivities at the town square. There’s a certain kind of magic in the air as you stroll through the streets, bundled up against the cold, with the warm glow of lights reflecting off the snow-covered ground.

The night kicks off with a small parade, and while it may not be the biggest or the flashiest, it’s always heartfelt. There’s something about watching the local high-school band march through the streets that brings a smile to my face every time. Ice sculptures adorn the square, all carved by our local artists. They glisten under the streetlights, and we always make it a point to admire each one before it melts away with the passing days.

The fire pit by the fire department is another must-visit of the night, offering warmth and the sweet aroma of woodsmoke. The hot-cocoa station, manned by cheerful volunteers, has become a favorite stop. As we sip, the kids rush around, giggling and chasing each other, their cheeks flushed red from the cold.

Entertainment is scattered throughout the town, each venue offering something unique. The town hall might host a magician who pulls rabbits from a hat, while the church sanctuary transforms into a stage for local dance troupes. We’ve spent many a night huddled in the pews, applauding young dancers as they twirl to the strains of holiday music. At the outfitter store, crafting stations are set up, where little hands can create snowflake ornaments or paper lanterns. And there are always cookies—handed out by the Lions Club or the Girl Scouts, each bite a sweet reminder of the generosity that flows through our little town.

The star of the evening is always the fireworks. Our town may be small, but it takes great pride in the yearly fireworks display. We don’t wait until midnight to set them off. By midnight, we are all home and in jammies, waiting for the big ball to drop (at least I am)! Instead, at about 9:30 p.m., we gather around the town square, bundled in scarves and coats. The fire department oversees the display, making sure everything goes smoothly, and the crowd buzzes with excitement.

The sky bursts into color, which is reflected in the wide eyes of the children gathered around. It may be a small display, and it doesn’t last very long, but it never fails to fill me with joy. There’s something about those moments, standing in the cold with my family beside me and my neighbors all around, that makes me feel like part of something larger. As the last sparkle fades, we linger for a while, savoring the final sips of cocoa and nibbling any leftover cookies. It’s a slow walk back home, where the warmth and coziness of our living room await.

When New Year’s Day dawns, it brings with it a sense of possibility and anticipation. Some people like to make resolutions—promises to themselves to quit a bad habit or accomplish something grand. Others set goals, aiming for specific milestones in the year to come. Me? I prefer to keep things simple. Each year, I set small, meaningful expectations for myself.

This year, I’ve decided I’d like to find the positive in each day, even when life feels overwhelming. I want to make more time for learning new things—whether that means finally learning Italian, trying a cooking class, or reading more books outside of my comfort zone. And then, of course, there’s the garden. This year, I am determined to grow squash without killing them, a task that’s proved more difficult than you might think.

None of these are earth-shattering, but they’re my way of embracing the fresh start that a new year promises. And that’s what New Year’s is all about, isn’t it? A time to let go of the past, to cherish the memories, and to look forward with hope. It’s a time for new beginnings, big or small, and for all the chances that lie ahead.

So, here’s to a fantastic 2025, to all the moments yet to be made, and to the happiness that traditions like Starry Starry Night give us as we move forward into whatever comes next. I hope your new year is filled with joy, and I’d love to hear about your goals, too. Maybe, just maybe, this will be the year my squash finally flourishes. ❖