That’s Life: Looking for the light brings family together

The gasp from the back seat made me ease off the gas.

“Look!” One of the kids pointed out the window. Rising above the houses several blocks away, a tree towered in sparkling splendor.

When we reached the intersection and turned onto the street, we found an ordinary neighborhood block transformed into a holiday spectacle.

“Look at that!” The kids’ voices rose in excitement. They leaned forward against their seat belts to get a better view.

I did look, but immediately after peering through the window, I gazed in the rear-view mirror. Their faces shone, eyes lit in wonder. Through the falling snow they spied candy cane arches over every driveway, candles lining the front lawns and a host of Christmas lawn ornaments amid a million twinkling lights.

I smiled, then belted out a verse of the Christmas song playing on the radio.

Curtis grinned and added harmony as he adjusted his Santa stocking cap. The kids chimed in when they knew the words, in between eating spoons of ice cream and talking about their favorite house or holiday décor.

When we reached the end of the block, the kids clamored for us to u-turn and drive down the other side for another look, just like the slow-driving cars of like-minded gawkers in front of us.

As we inched down the street like a speed-controlled amusement park ride, we speculated about how many lights trimmed the gigantic tree and how much their January electric bill might be.

The car filled with laughter when we reached the arterial again and spied the house on the corner. A blow-up Grinch on the front stoop frowned toward the extravagant display that stretched down the block.

Thanks to those magical and mirthful minutes, driving around town with Santa hats, ice cream and holiday music became a yearly tradition of hunting for holiday displays and the best Christmas lights. For only the price of gas and some ice cream, it was an evening of entertainment and family fun.

We found Nativities and angels, illuminated treehouses, elves, Santas and presents, lights that blinked in time to music, homemade decorations, and store-bought bling. Some streets shone with a cornucopia of color. Others were simple and serene as they twinkled in the night.

Some years we added as many extra kids as we had seat belts.

Some years we mapped out destinations, like the Gaiser Conservatory at Manito Park. There we’d park and carry our coats while basking in the humid glow as we meandered the magical, indoor display.

“Look!” The kids would point and exclaim again. They’d talk about their favorites and pause to stare at plants of every conceivable shape, size, color and texture highlighted by thousands of Christmas lights.

Then we’d pile back into the car on our quest for all things light, bright and merry.

While the paper publishes a holiday lights list (this year’s will appear Sunday in Today), we also enjoy the fun of the hunt, driving up and down the city streets searching for light.

This simple tradition has come to capture a lot of what this holiday means for our family and a sentiment we try to remember throughout the year. If you search hard or long enough, you’re bound to find some light in the darkness. And sometimes, when you least expect it, the light finds you.

Though we’ve scaled back our holiday tradition as the kids are older, we still try to squeeze in a hothouse visit and a drive to our favorite city street decked in holiday style.

We all remember the snowy night we first found the tree. I usually have trouble recalling exactly where it is in the neighborhood, but that doesn’t matter. We can always find it by the tree that shines above everything, visible from blocks away.