A winter mist curling through mountain villages, fir trees adorned with lights, and church bells echoing across terraced hills. This is Israel. And few know that Israel’s North is home to a vibrant Christian population – one that transforms the Galilee into a quiet, glowing Christmas wonderland every winter. And this winter, as Christians and Jews are being attacked around the globe, there’s one little village in Israel that feels protected from all of the hate. 

In December, when the air sharpens and nights arrive early, the Western Galilee tells a special Israeli story of Christian villages, centuries-old faith preserved in cobblestone, artists and dancers who have responded to the current hardship with light, and small businesses reopening their doors – together – after two years of war.

Mi’ilya is an entirely Arab Christian village in the North of Israel. It is around 800 to 900 years old and rose to prominence in the 12th century, when the Crusaders built a fortress there during the Second Crusader Kingdom. The fortress remains just meters away from the city’s central church. Mi’ilya’s continuous Greek Catholic presence dates back several centuries, with many families tracing their roots in the village to some 300 years ago, following population changes and resettlements under Ottoman rule.

Mi’ilya is one of only two villages in Israel that are 100 percent Christian. Out of roughly 200,000 Christians living in Israel today, an estimated 75% belong to the Greek Catholic (Melkite) Church. Economically, the city is a big success. Its population is filled with college-educated professionals such as brain surgeons, engineers, and entrepreneurs.

In December, Mi’ilya leans fully into Christmas. Fir trees (a symbol of evergreen, eternity) glow in courtyards. Arabic religious songs are played over the loudspeakers in a melodic female voice. Visitors walk along narrow alleys where stone walls reflect thousands of tiny lights.

On December 24, families begin with vespers at the Greek Catholic church, then gather at night for a festive meal as the celebration moves outdoors with dancing and drums. That’s also when the young local scouts dress up as Baba Noel (Santa Claus) and drive from house to house singing carols and delivering gifts to children (that parents handed out to the scouts in advance).

But here’s the twist that Sister Monika Krämer of Mi’ilya’s Servants of the Gospel told the Magazine: The red-suited “Santa” image is largely an early Coca-Cola-era marketing gimmick, while the original tradition comes from Saint Nicholas, a bishop remembered for helping the poor and bringing gifts to children. That was important to her – that Christmas should be remembered and observed with the spirit of love, peace, and solidarity with the poor and the needy. After all, Jesus was born to an impoverished family in a cave for animals. 

On Christmas Day, December 25, the villagers gathers again, this time for morning mass around 10 am. After prayers, families spend the day visiting relatives – traditionally the mother’s side of the family, since they would have visited the father’s side on the 24th.

Sister Monika commented that Mi’ilya doesn’t celebrate behind closed doors. It’s very communal. And at Christmas time, she was pleased to report an influx of tourists from the Jewish and Muslim demographics who come to enjoy the festive lights and the holiday atmosphere.

“I think Mi’ilya is the calmest place here. All are welcome, and they feel at ease. This is very nice, very beautiful,” she said.

This winter, tourists wore Santa Claus hats as they walked in lines through Mi’ilya with their guide, and it became just one of the central stops in a broader celebration spanning the Western Galilee – a region still gently healing economically and emotionally from the war. The Western Galilee Winter Festival brought together artists, chefs, tour guides, dancers, and small-business owners across dozens of communities for three days of open studios, performances, tastings, and tours.

Behind the scenes, the initiative was supported by Jewish National Fund-USA, which has helped sustain the Western Galilee Now small-business consortium for more than a decade. The consortium includes roughly 100 small enterprises – many privately owned, some employing people with disabilities – working together to keep tourism alive from the mountains to the sea.

During the war, when travel nearly stopped as Hezbollah missiles showered Israel’s North, the consortium distributed more than 25,000 support boxes filled with local products. Every item purchased directly from a Galilee business meant immediate income and visibility. It was not charity, it was partnership.

“We are really happy to be back,” said Michal Shiloah Galnoor, managing director at Western Galilee Now. “We couldn’t have it [the festival] in the Galilee for two years. Last year, we took the Galilee to Tel Aviv and did the festival there. The Galilee was stuck in October 2023 until a few months ago.”

From having missiles to not having GPS, Galnoor says simply that “no one could get here.”

The three-day festival features 30 events all over the Galilee with workshops, artist meet and greets, tours, and food tastings.

“It’s Christians and Muslims and Jews and Druze, and the whole idea is how we live here and enjoy life. We are so happy to celebrate this again,” Galnoor enthused.

Winter in the Galilee begins in the soil. It is foraging season, when za’atar grows fresh and wild. Jews and Druze alike enjoy this herb. Two women of different faiths living in the neighboring towns of Misgav and Yanuach Jat may not have had the chance to meet or collaborate, but thanks to the business consortium they are doing just that. Yaarit Stern and Nohad Bissan forage together and also lead cooking and baking workshops.

They now cook side by side and offer cooking and baking workshops, as well as private dinners which include local produce and herbs they pick themselves. The two took turns sharing the stories of their families, their recipes and the origins of them, and highlighting which herbs and local produce are staples in Jewish and Druze homes in the Galilee. Workshop participants took home goody bags of items they made with their own hands, such as date Ma’amoul cookies and fatayer, which is a savory pastry.

As night fell (at 4:30 pm!), the festival continued westward to Kibbutz Ga’aton, home to one of Israel’s most renowned dance communities.

Artists transformed paths and home studios into installations. Each piece explored light through colorful bulbs and shapes. Visitors moved slowly between the quiet works that hung on trees.

At the center stood the Kibbutz Contemporary Dance Company. Founded in 1970 by Judith Arnon – a Holocaust survivor who once refused to dance for Nazi guards on Christmas Day – the company carries her legacy forward. As a young woman imprisoned in Auschwitz, Arnon danced in her barracks to bring joy to herself and her fellow inmates. When guards demanded she perform for their holiday celebration, she refused and was punished, forced to stand barefoot in the snow all night. During her frigid night, vowed that if she lived, she would dedicate her life to dance.

She kept that promise. Arnon arrived in Israel alone on a boat, her family having been exterminated in the camps of the Holocaust. She started her movement school, taught a protégé, and today the school in Ga’aton trains performers from around the world and throughout the Galilee. The program represents Israel in international festivals and competitions. Even now, about 40% of the dancers come from abroad, choosing to live and train in the Western Galilee despite war, uncertainty, and distance from major cities. Arnon passed away in 2013 at the age of 86.

More than 100 dancers filled the space during a compelling 45-minute Hanukkah show which brought sharp movement, rhythm, and light into a powerful and immersive performance. Viewers became dancers for two of the songs. It felt like a communal answer to grief.

After months of war, displacement, and economic strain, the communities of the North chose to pivot the way they do business, open their doors instead of close ranks or change professions. They chose to invite visitors in – to walk, taste, listen, and linger. And they survived through the war, keeping their art and food relevant. 

In Western Galilee, winter does not mean retreat. It means light, be it the light of friendly connection across cultures, Hanukkah candles, or tiny bulbs adorning Christmas trees in warm Christian towns.