“Holidays Behind the Walls: The Quiet Pain Families Carry”

A Pain That Isn't Addressed by a Greeting Card

The holidays were never designed for separation. They were built for gathering, for warmth, for the sound of laughter in rooms that feel too quiet now.

And yet—every year—countless families across this nation enter this season with a loved one behind bars, trying to balance celebration with sorrow, light with heaviness, hope with heartbreak.

For families of the incarcerated, the holidays stretch differently.

Time slows.

Memories sharpen.

Small things—shopping for dinner rolls, hearing a Christmas song, seeing a mother wrap gifts—can open emotional wounds that people around us never see.

We carry a pain that doesn’t come with greeting cards.

There is no “Holiday Comfort for Families Impacted by Mass Incarceration” aisle at the store.

There are no instructions for how to set a table with one chair missing.

For mothers, the ache is layered:

We remember their childhood holidays, their little faces under the glow of Christmas lights, their excitement for gifts, the way they used to run into our arms.

And now we hope—pray—that they can find even a moment of peace in a place designed to break the spirit.

The prison walls don’t soften for Christmas.

The razor wire doesn’t glisten with holiday meaning.

The system does not pause its cruelty because the calendar says "Joy."

But families do what we’ve always done.

We keep loving.

We keep hoping.

We keep fighting for our sons and daughters to be seen as human, as redeemable, as worthy of a second chance.

If you’re feeling the heaviness this season, know this:

You are not alone.

Your grief is real.

Your strength is holy.

And A Mother’s Cry sees you, stands with you, and holds space for your heart.

This holiday, may you find even a small measure of peace, and may you be reminded that love travels farther than any wall ever built.

~ Rev. Jamesina E. Greene, Founder & President, A Mother's Cry

www.amotherscry.org