In May, 2013 a columnist by the name of Craig Wilson took his final bow after a buyout from his employer, USA Today. He wrote a weekly column for them called “The Final Word” for more than sixteen years. His writing – regardless of the subject matter – provided readers with a unique, thoughtful take on even the most take-for-granted aspects of daily life.
During his long career there, one December he wrote an article which dealt with holiday decorations. Specifically, displays that provide a depth of feeling that make passers-by smile and project the spirit of the holidays upon them.
I present this gentle reminder from Craig (and his father) of just how simple – and magical – this season can be…
A Glow In The Darkness Is The Best Gift Of All
Every December, a neighbor of ours opens his dining room shutters and lets in the world.
A floor-to-ceiling tree, laden with ornaments and white lights, fills the bay window. Underneath it is spread an assortment of antique toys. Original Raggedy Ann books, a model train engine from the Pennsylvania Railroad, a fire truck, and an assortment of old stuffed animals. An elephant. A bear. A well-loved floppy-eared rabbit sporting a winter sweater and seated in a wicker sleigh, ready to glide.
The window, which is right on the sidewalk and perfect for viewing, has become a holiday tradition in the neighborhood. Like many, I make a detour on my nightly dog walk just to pass by.
I know there will come a Christmas when the display won’t be there, but until then, I happily take in the annual offering, just as I used to take in the mesmerizing holiday windows years ago at Sibley’s department store in Rochester, N.Y.
The magic of our neighborhood window, however, is that there’s nothing commercial about it. My neighbor offers up the display every year purely for the joy it might give a passerby, not to make a sale or hype a product.
It’s perhaps the simplest of Christmas gifts, which also makes it the best.
When I was walking Maggie the other night, I watched as a young mother and father pointed out the various toys to their daughter. She was maybe 3 or 4 and in her father’s arms. From the look on her face, you’d have thought she was in another world. Maybe she was.
And then the trio strolled away, happy perhaps in the belief that they’d just had one of the most pleasant and innocent experiences of their hectic holiday. A serendipity of the season.
When I was growing up in the country, Christmas displays like my neighbor’s window were not abundant.
But I remember being impressed that someone would take the time and effort to hang, say, a single strand of multicolored lights around their barn door. Or wrap a lamp pole with lights, aglow at the end of the lane. A lonely beacon in the night.
My dad did the same.
Christmas after Christmas, he would run the world’s longest extension cord across the snow-covered front yard, down to a tiny fir tree that proudly stood sentinel by the side of the road.
He covered the tree with what seemed like thousands of lights, and every night at 5, he turned them on with all the flourish of lighting the tree at Rockefeller Center.
I’ve often wondered what people thought as they drove down this country road, in the middle of nowhere, and came upon a solitary tree glowing in the December darkness.
Maybe they thought it was the prettiest thing they ever saw. Maybe they saw it as a gift.
Maybe they realized someone was just sharing his joy. Nothing to sell. No agenda in mind. Something done just for the joy of it. Like my neighbor’s magical window.
And maybe that’s what it’s all about.
Picture Courtesy Keil Tree
Bruce this is such a lovely story to share. When I was young we had a neighborhood street that collectively would decorate their homes/trees with outdoor lights. This was in the 60’s so just basic lights but it was the most magical thing to see as a child. It was dubbed “Twinkle Lane” and we would go every season.
Thanks, Deb. I can picture your “Twinkle Lane” based on my growing up, and seeing all the houses on the street we lived on illuminated with nothing but those basic yet cherished light bulbs. Those memories remain among my favorites when it comes to decorating. Sometimes, less is more.
Thanks for posting this, Bruce.
In his farewell column for USA Today in May 2013, Craig Wilson described his column style as “just a slice of life _ my love of outdoor showers, a good snowstorm, and screen doors that slam shut on warm summer nights. I always thought of the column as a weekly postcard from a friend.”
Thank you, Mark. His columns always resonated with me, and most certainly with a lot of other folks as well during all his years there.
Now THAT is the reason for the season right there. No taking, all giving and for the very best of reasons. Just because they can. Great piece, Bruce.
Thanks, Marc. I love driving around and looking for those very kind of images…where you know someone has decorated solely with the mindset of giving us all a gift for the Holidays.
Great stuff my man
Love this Bruce. While I’m in the unpacking stage of a move, I couldn’t help but comment. Besides, I’m already exhausted schlepping boxes from one corner to another this morning. 😉
First there’s a Colorado company who people should thank for their colored outdoor lights. Sturgeon Electric founder, D. D. Sturgeon was the brainchild of this invention. (See: https://sturgeonelectric.com/news/sturgeon-electrics-founder-invents-outdoor-christmas-lights/ for the complete story). It always makes me smile as my dad worked for Sturgeon once.
And then there’s the time when I lived on the western slope of Colorado where locals decorated a tree on Highway 50 south of Grand Junction called “Phantom Christmas Tree.” This landmark juniper, located between mile markers 55 and 56 has been decorated annually by locals for decades as a symbol of hope, with decorations varying year to year, and often featuring homemade ornaments. It’s a beloved tradition where travelers leave small gifts or decorations, and its history goes back to the 1950s when a highway worker moved it to save it from grading.
Now I gotta get back to ‘box hell.’ Happy Holidays, Bruce.
Thanks, Monika. Shout-out to both Colorado and Sturgeon Electric…and your dad worked at that company! The Phantom Tree sounds like a wonderful tradition, and it truly captures the spirit of the season. I have been in “Box Hell,” so thank you for getting a day-pass to get away from it for a spell, and maybe put on some Christmas music upon your return.
Lovely, Bruce!
Thanks, Emma!
A glowing story indeed; well shared🎄
Thanks, E.F.🎄
I have a wreath I hang on my front door, but that’s it. My neighbours always blow me away. But it’s all good. Merry Christmas Bruce!
Merry Christmas, Alex…and I would more likely notice that wreath than those other decorations. As this story goes, sometimes it is the smaller gestures which have the biggest meaning!
This is beautiful, Bruce. In my head, I heard Linus (from Peanuts) reading this aloud. All the warm and fuzzies.
Thanks, Lois. I could definitely see and hear Linus reading this.
Wow. Just . . . wow. Until now I hadn’t read Mr. Wilson’s work (I was never a USA Today reader). This is a writer.
Agreed. His columns always resonated with me.
A lovely piece. Thanks so much for sharing.
Thanks, Peggy. My pleasure.
If the amount of joy somehow doubled, the world would be a far, far better place. And if it tripled, even better!
That is math that adds up for me, Neil!
That’s lovely. And a perfect sentiment for the holiday.
❤️
Thank you, Rivergirl.❤️
This year the family next door asked if I wanted a joint effort as their kids wanted to do something a bit more spectacular then usual. As this only involved paying for my share of the lights and not going up the tall ladder, I readily agreed. When we had finished and it got properly dark it was so funny, very bright and way over the top. The lights have survived our latest storm and the bed ridden elderly lady across the road loves them. I was worried they might be a bit too much for everyone.
Janet, that is a lovely joint effort, and even more lovely that the woman across the road offers her seal of approval. Makes those lights shine even brighter in my mind. Thank you for sharing that.
Thank you so much for sharing that! (Makes me wish I had discovered his writing when he was still writing for the paper.) It captured perfectly not only why we enjoy Holiday decorations so much, but also the essence of the Christmas spirit. One of my favorite things to do in December is look at Christmas lights, not in the large, commercial displays, but simply on people’s houses and yards. And yes, it’s not just their beauty, but the fact that someone took the time to try to make the dark Winter nights more cheerful for others. That’s the sort of thing that maintains my faith in humanity!
Thanks, Ann! I absolutely love driving around the area and looking for those kind of images you describe…where you know someone at their residence has decorated solely with the mindset of giving all who happen across their space a gift for the Holidays. FYI Craig wrote a book (which I believe is still available) called “It’s The Little Things.” It features a number of his columns, similar to this one.
Java Bean: “Ayyy, we had always heard that the hokey pokey was what it was all about, but maybe it can be all about more than one thing, sí?”
Lulu: “There is a house near us that does a really extravagant Christmas display every year. It’s a neighborhood attraction. We have heard that the owner does lighting for concerts or something so apparently he is an expert.”
Java Bean, I think we can squeeze in some more room for more than one thing. Lulu, that sounds like a “glowing” recommendation for that house!
Lovely post, Bruce. There’s something very special about storytelling any time of year, though with the heightened expectations of the holiday season, it sometimes seems like a sharing like this takes on extra meaning in the way it can cause us to stop, take a moment, and slow down our monkeymind to take in the beauty around us and to witness the kindness of loved ones and strangers, and realize those are all things that matter.
Wilsons’s style reminds me a lot of a Canadian radio presenter and author, Stuart McLean. He went across the country on tour in the pre-Christmas season doing a variety show featuring bits from his ‘The Vinyl Cafe’ shows and books, and he always brought musical guests along. It had just become a family tradition for my sweety, me and our kids when Stuart developed an aggressive case of melanoma and died about a year later. His wonderful voice and stories remain in my heart.
Thanks, Steve. I agree with your viewpoint on storytelling, as well as the irony that this time of year provides for some of the greatest storytelling moments…if we’ll just slow down long enough to take them in. Stuart sounds like a wonderful entertainer who certainly was a tradition for many.
You’re welcome, Bruce. Here’s to slowing down…
Stuart was a true Canadian treasure, missed dearly, thank you. One of my sons does a terrific impersonation of him reading from his books, and that was our entertainment the year the show was cancelled.
This is beautifully sentimental, Bruce. I always love seeing the colored lights at Christmas.
Thanks, Dwight. Happy you enjoyed it, and happy you enjoy the colors of Christmas like I do.
Yes, very much!
Oh my goodness, this is the best Christmas post. I remember, and I must share it again. Thank you, Bruce.
Jennie, thank you for spreading Craig’s message for the Holidays. Very, very much appreciated!
My pleasure, Bruce!
I’m a little late, but loved this story. It is so true that the little things are what make the spirit of the holidays so wonderful. Thanks, Bruce
Thank you, John. Glad you stopped by here, and happy you enjoyed this.
Wow, Bruce! What a love take on the ways we bring joy to others – especially in this season! Beautiful read – thank you for sharing!
Thanks, Wynne! Happy you enjoyed…it really is a love letter about how easy it is to bring joy to others.
beautiful!
Thanks, Amy!
Bruce, I never heard of Craig Wilson, but I’m glad he left something behind to fill our stockings with. What a soul satisfying piece of writing. I remember our old downtown had storefronts had windows with browse worthy items in them. My dad would take us down there at night and we’d walk along in wonder. I’ve seen exhibits like that at museums, items shared for the joy of it, not to sell anything. I love the idea of a neighbor putting on an annual display like that. Like Wilson, any bit of Christmas cheer a person puts up for the holidays is appreciated by me as I drive by homes. I bought 4 solar candy canes last year and I hope they bring joy to others as they bring to me each night when I look out to see them.
Happy Holidays, Bruce. I appreciate the things you choose to share on your blog.
Thank you…and Happy Holidays, Lisa. We used to have storefronts full of displays we’d walk by at night, but fortunately a lot of locals have made an effort to keep all of that joy and wonder alive on the home fronts. Your last sentence made my day!
You are welcome, and I’m glad 🙂
Beautiful!
Thanks, Cathy!
It is a lovely gift shared freely. I look upon my neighbor’s multi-colored lights on an evergreen in his yard and take a moment to appreciate the moment and season. Likewise, I leave the blinds open in my front window, so neighbors can see our tree. Sharing the joy! 🎄 🕯️
Eliza, I love walking or driving by a place where a Christmas tree is on display, day or night. Our live tree isn’t quite positioned for such a view, but we do provide a deck adorned with red and white lights, with a live mini-tree standing at attention…looking for attention!🎄