DECEMBER 23 ― All I want for Christmas is world peace; and no more malaria, no more AIDS, no more orphans, no more women forced into the sex trade, no more refugees, no more homeless, no more starving, no more discrimination, no more gun attacks, no more pain, no more suffering.

Less hate, more love. 

That is what I want for Christmas. Only those things. Cliche I know. 

I know that the truth is that the December 25 will come and go and I won’t get anything I truly want for Christmas.  I’ll get a gift card or two, maybe some small piece of jewellery, and too much food, and family, but the things my heart truly desires will not be given to me. 

Because the reality is those things cannot be given. Not by anyone. Those things are things that we all have to work for. 

They are things that I can give to others to some degree. 

I can do little to cure malaria, but I can, for just US$1 treat a patient who has it and perhaps save a life.

I can do little to cure AIDS, but I can educate myself and educate others. I can help end the stigma associated with the virus. I can help people prevent getting HIV with education and resources.

I cannot stop the orphan problem that exists, but perhaps by helping with malaria and HIV I can prevent a child from becoming an orphan. I can support people who are helping children stay in families so that they are not in orphanages. And when there is no other solution available, I can help a family adopt so that an orphan finds a family. 

I can’t do much to stop the global sex trade, but I can help the women and children in it to find ways out. I can support and purchase products that are not being made by women or children enslaved somewhere. I can help and support organisations who are providing safe places for people to get out of that life and claim their life back. 

I can do little about the refugee crisis. But I can advocate for them, I can be a voice, I can sponsor groups who are legitimately giving resources to help people who have nothing and are in need. 

I can’t do much to help the homeless or the hungry. But I can spend a few dollars to buy a meal for someone. I can hand out warm clothes or warm blankets. I can volunteer at a soup kitchen or in a shelter. 

I can do little to stop discrimination. I cannot stop someone from hating. But I can be love. I can show that I love. I can show that love is bigger than fear and hatred. 

I cannot get guns out of the hands of the bad guys. But I can advocate for laws that will at least try. I can educate. 

I cannot stop pain and suffering, not globally, but I can do my best to help the people who I’m near to and are hurting. I can cook a meal, I can anonymously send some money, I can listen, I can be present, I can be there. 

I cannot bring world peace, but I can be peaceable. I can learn to understand people whom I disagree with. I can, in my own life, try and bridge the span of misunderstanding and fear that makes people sometimes be unreasonable. I can show grace and mercy when people are cruel or when I don’t understand them. 

More love, less hate.

All I want for Christmas is actually not something I want from any one person. It is something I want from all of us. I don’t want it to be something we say every year, or hope in our hearts knowing if we say it eyes will roll and people will think us corny. I want it to be something that we do.  

Christmas of 2016 will come much as this year has.  And I’m going to want the same things next year; but perhaps next year I will be able to know I helped a few more people. That I was able to do something, no matter how small, to help someone else. 

Perhaps in 2016 there will be one less orphan, one less woman selling her body for food, one less person who dies of malaria, one less person who contracts HIV, one more person who knows that they are loved, one less person who has no place to sleep, one less family living out of a small bag, one less person affected by gun violence. 

And if I can have that hope for December 25, 2016, what might happen if we all did a little this year? 

*This is the personal opinion of the columnist.