Part 1: Island Holiday Happenings - A Light in the Darkness

Every time I sat down to blog, the happenings of the festival season caught up with me. I suppose even a little dog with a blog needs a break sometimes, especially in the busyness of the holidays. And my goodness, December was busy. I know we are already in 2026, so let me catch you up quickly on the end of 2025. Settle in for the first of a three-part series: Christmas Happenings, Island Style.

Our series begins at an incredible place in St. Croix called the St. George Botanical Garden. My humans are privileged to volunteer and learn there each week. I’ll probably blog more about the garden another time, but for now, I want to tell you about something really special that happened there this winter. After a long fall of "flooffing" artificial trees, stringing lights, and decorating, the garden kicked off the Christmas season with a big Light the Garden fundraiser.

Not only did my humans help get the place ready, but they also baked goodies to sell—and even got to be part of the evening’s entertainment alongside a wonderful choir from their church. I’m not sure any human has the vocal range or amplification of my singing howls, but still, they practiced diligently. And then, the big night arrived.

According to my humans, the place was packed. My brother and sister humans even got to sing from the balcony, something especially meaningful given the history of that space. The St. George Botanical Garden sits on 16 acres of land full of ruins and repurposed buildings that were once an 18th century Danish colonial sugarcane plantation. Within the garden there is both a powerfully painful history and profound beauty growing from its soil. It serves as marker of the resilience, perseverance, and vibrancy of Crucian people. The injustice that once was is evident and it serves as a reminder of the injustices remaining all around our globe. Yet, the garden offers an opportunity to bear witness to the truth that beauty can grow even from the most devastating places. Healing doesn’t happen overnight, and growth doesn’t happen in the darkness. It happens in the light. The lights shining in the darkness throughout the garden were a resonant reminder of that truth for my humans.

The balcony Elijah and Penelope sang from used to be the manager’s house. Someone with Elijah’s skin would never have been allowed to freely sing from that balcony when the plantation was operating. To lift every voice and sing—to proclaim light in the darkness from that balcony—was deeply meaningful. Even though my mother and father humans sang from ground level, all of them had the chance to spread joy throughout the garden. When they told me how it felt to plant joy in the hearts of the people around them, it reminded me to keep doing the same. I want to spread joy and be a light in the darkness.

After the singing, my humans spent time with friends, enjoyed some cookies, and walked through the garden, mesmerized by the lights. They told me so much about it, I’m not even mad they didn’t bring me. To be honest, I probably would have stolen the show anyway, and that’s not what the night was about. I am a bit sad I missed the cookies, though. Fortunately, my humans baked a LOT of cookies this December, so I still got to enjoy the smells (and even some broken ones).

As we say goodbye to 2025 and welcome a new year, I’m committed to being a light of joy in the lives of others. My humans are committed to doing the same. Would you join us? We could all use more light in the darker parts of this world.

Stay tuned for Part Two of Island Holiday Happenings.