After many years away — first in California and then in Chicago for work and training — we have found our way back to Rye. It is a town that may be small, but it is rich in character: cosmopolitan yet intimate, welcoming, and quietly charming.
Life in Rye centers around Purchase Street, where everything one needs feels close at hand. From excellent restaurants — Aurora remains my favorite — to neighborhood bakeries, grocery stores, and salons, the town offers a comforting sense of completeness. While Manhattan still calls me in each day, Rye never feels lacking.
It is during the holiday season, however, that Rye reveals its true magic. Purchase Street glows with soft lights, and on Friday evenings, neighbors gather in cafés and cozy restaurants, lingering over conversation and warm drinks. During this time, the usual divisions of politics and religion seem to dissolve. What remains is something far more enduring: a shared sense of warmth, presence, and goodwill.
At heart, we are all the same. We love our families, care for our children and pets, and hold memories of those who came before us. Holidays remind us that these connections matter more than any differences that might otherwise separate us. For a brief and beautiful moment, we are simply people, sharing the same season and the same joy.
The holiday season in Rye is also a time for slowing down. We gather with family, remember our grandparents, put our phones aside, and return to the pleasure of unhurried conversation. Gifts are exchanged not for their value, but for the meaning behind them. Each year, we leave one seat empty at our Christmas table — a quiet tradition meant to welcome anyone who may need a place to belong.
This is what the holiday season means in Rye: light against the winter dark, community over division, and a renewed sense of what truly matters. It is a season we cherish — and one that reminds us who we are.
–Dariusz Borys
