Every evening our neighbor across the way turns on her outdoor Christmas lights and her Christmas tree in the big picture window for just a couple hours, sometime after the sun has fully set and, I imagine, before they go to bed.
Some might see such a colorful display as frivolous commercialization or evidence of a meaningful holiday overrun by consumerism. You might even know someone who's put their lights up with more of a competitive spirit or obligatory spirit rather than a jovial, Christmas spirit. As with many things, the what doesn't seem to matter quite as much as the how or the why.
When I look out my window and I see her home aglow, (yeah, this gets cheesy for a second) my heart swells a little bit. I fell my facial muscles relax and my countenance open. I experience gratitude within myself because these lights are like a spotlight on a happy childhood memory. I remember getting all bundled up and my aunt and uncle taking me out in their pickup truck in snowy Down East Maine when I was still so small, I'd have to be lifted up onto one of their laps to help look for the houses with the most lights. I don't quite recall if we brought hot cocoa along, but it adds a nice aroma to the memory.
To me, the lights represents a season in my childhood when I most experienced a sense of abundance even though we were materially poor and much of the rest of the year was often characterized more by fear and scarcity. These little lights symbolize Light in the darkness to me; light literally shining in the longer hours of the night as the windows of day become smaller until the winter solstice; and not just light, but festive and colorful lights; lights that tell stories. Some tell fairytales. Some are expressions of faith. And they remind me of my story, experiencing the gift of presence, of quality time and playfulness with loved ones -- of people who loved me as a smaller, more vulnerable version of myself and who still care about me and I, them.
Every child is a little person who is collecting such memories to carry into life. We all need these treasures to store away into our hearts and mind's eye. These are the gifts to cherish our whole lives and what a brilliant thing that I'll recall this gift of love every year for the whole month of December as long as the neighbor is putting up her luminous work of art all over her house and yard.
What's a memory of an immaterial gift given to you that continues to give your inner being nourishment and peace today? What symbols of the season remind you of this part of your story?
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