by Phil Montgomery

Created on: January 08, 2009

Ever since I was a child, I remember the sparkling multi-colored lights at Christmas time. Red, yellow, green, orange, and white flashing and blinking in the winter evenings. I remember thinking that they were little beacons of joy, that they were the actual source of all our holiday happiness. Every Christmas Eve, my family would gather for dinner in our dining room. The warm glow from the candles brought out the depth and vibrancy of the deep red walls. We usually ate turkey or maybe a goose, with lots of vegetables and other side dishes. I always loved my mom's cooking, especially the mashed potatoes with gravy.

After dinner we all crammed into our family's dark green minivan and drove around the city admiring the lights people had put on their houses. With my face pressed to the glass windowpane, we drove around for almost an hour every year, commenting and comparing one yard's decorations to another. My younger brother liked the most magnificent, craziest displays. "This one is awesome!" he exclaimed. "Look at all those crazy colors! And the lights are so bright! They even have a figure of Santa with music playing!" My mother, on the other hand, always preferred the houses with fewer lights and a less cluttered appearance. "This house isn't so gaudy," she would say. "It has a nice classic, almost fairy-tale feel to it." I didn't have a strong preference either way; I enjoyed them all.

After going to the church for a candlelight service full of carols and traditional holiday hymns, we finally came back to our own house, decorated with simple strands of white lights and a solitary electric candle shining in each window. We paused in the driveway to admire the simple beauty of the bright little bulbs piercing the darkness of the surrounding front yard. The winters in the South were always mild, but we were bundled up just the same. Once inside, we had a snack and spent time as a family while the anticipation for Christmas morning grew.

Looking back on those days as I kid, I see myself through the lens of family, warmth, and belonging. My attitude toward Christmas lights hasn't changed in the last few decades, but as I've grown older, I've realized that the real source of our happiness is our close bond with family and friends. During the holidays we remember how lucky we are, and it isn't because of all those little colored lights but they do help, don't they?

Learn more about this author, Phil Montgomery.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.