I like to see the festive lights on houses, trees and in yards during the Christmas season.
As Sweetheart and I drive through the countryside in the evenings, my head is on a swivel. I can’t take it all in.
Several years ago, Sweetheart and I went to Oglebay to see the lights. There were lots of them. Besides the usual Santas, elves and nativity scenes, there were animals and other figures that, I thought, had little to do with Christmas. Maybe, they were just using them to make the trail longer.
The most enjoyable moment came for me as we sat by the window in the lodge eating our supper from the buffet. We could see the cars, with their headlights on, winding their way through the displays.
We did have a bit of a challenge drinking home. We got off the beaten path and didn’t know which routes to use to bring us home and I didn’t know how to use GPS at that time.
Sweetheart said, “As long as we keep heading north and east, we’ll get there.” And we did.
Fortunately, the car had a compass, because it was dark and we were on some deserted back roads. We did make it home safely, though, and on the same night. The fact that I am writing this story right now is proof of that.
Some of the light displays I see in my own neighborhood have made it unnecessary to go back to Oglebay. The ones in the local parks are excellent.
I have noticed, though, that more and more houses are exhibiting nativity scenes. They are made of wood, or metal, or plastic. Some are lighted and some aren’t. Some are made entirely of lights.
I don’t remember seeing nearly as many expressions of the acknowledgment of the origin of the holiday as I have this year. Now that such expressions are forbidden in much of the public arena, it appears that private citizens have taken up the slack.
Is this the Second Coming? Is it taking place in the hearts of homeowners? Is it another Great Awakening? Are those who view the nativities waking up to the true meaning of the season of lights?
Last Sunday we had a candlelight service at the Gospel jam. The church was dark, except for the candelabra at the front of the church and at the end of each aisle. We lit our candles, one by one, from the two main ones in the front as they were brought down the aisle.
After they were all lit, I turned around to see each person’s face, lit up by the candle he or she held, dispelling the darkness. It was enough to bring joy and hope to my heart.
I was reminded of the 1950s song, “If everyone lit just one little candle, what a bright world this would be.”
It makes me wonder if love and peace could travel from one person to another, like the light from the candles, the world would be a different—and wonderful—place.
Dorothy is the author of two books—“Miles and Miracles” and “Getting It All Together “. You can purchase a book or make a comment by emailing her at email@example.com.