Chris Hollo
For Latin-country artist MŌRIAH, Christmas isn’t just a season—it’s a celebration of faith, family, and the heritage that grounds her.
Her latest holiday release, a luminous reimagining of Stevie Wonder’s 1967 classic “Someday at Christmas,” blends mariachi warmth with quiet reflection. Stripped down to a nylon-string guitar and MŌRIAH’s radiant vocal, the song becomes what she calls “a prayer for unity that feels both timely and timeless.”
“It’s about hoping and wishing for a world that’s healed and at peace,” she says. “With everything happening in our country and our world, it felt right.”
Paul Mabury produced the song, and MŌRIAH believes the session captured something sacred.
“It’s the most festive, beautiful thing I’ve ever been part of,” she says.
At home in Tennessee, her holiday décor pays tribute to her Southwestern roots. Bright red ristras—strands of sun-dried chiles handmade by a woman in El Paso—hang throughout her house. Last year, MŌRIAH gave many of them as gifts.
“She told me her fingers were burning after the third day,” MŌRIAH recalls. “But she was so excited. What would’ve taken her a month and a half to sell, she made in a week because of our order.”
Then come the tamales—more than 200 of them. MŌRIAH and her mother lead the annual family cooking marathon, rolling out their Sonoran-style recipe, complete with a single olive tucked into each one.
“We like to joke that some people unwrap presents at Christmas; my family unwraps tamales,” she says.
The tradition ends with an all-day open house where friends and neighbors drop by for plates of tamales, beans, and rice.
“People show up around 10 a.m. and keep coming until late at night,” she says. “It’s the cure-all—especially after New Year’s Eve.”
Of course, being married to for KING + COUNTRY’s Joel Smallbone adds a little extra sparkle to her December.
“I’m married to, like, the King of Christmas,” she jokes. “Their Christmas tour has become such a tradition—it’s my favorite time of the year.”
As 2026 approaches, MŌRIAH says her focus is simple: gratitude and groundedness.
“All the fluff and chaos have fallen away,” she reflects. “What’s left are the things that matter—family, faith, community, and the daily practice of noticing beauty.”