Christmas Magic
“Would you let me show you our Christmas
lights?” the taxi driver asked. He had
overheard my exclamation of delight at a quick glimpse of a lighted boulevard
as we crossed its southern end.
We were in a taxi in Malaga, Spain
and, as you may have gathered, it was mid-December. Malaga is
located on a narrow shelf of land between high, barren mountains and the Mediterranean Sea.
About a half million people are crowded into the city which seems to be
about 2 miles wide and about 8 miles long.
Our hotel was located in the western end of Malaga;
the restaurant which had been recommended as having the best seafood paella in
all of Spain
was located, wouldn’t you know, in the eastern end.
The taxi driver who had taken us to the
restaurant had taken the interstate-type highway that runs along the base of
the mountains. The one taking us back to
the hotel was taking us along southern streets running parallel to the Mediterranean.
For the cynics who are sure the taxi driver
offered to show the lights simply to pad his fare, let me assure you, he
didn’t. It cost virtually the same for
both trips.
“Would you?” I responded to his offer to see
the Christmas lights. “That would be
lovely.”
He quickly made a u-turn and took us back to
the boulevard of lights. We drove
through an enchanted tunnel of lights.
The broad boulevard was divided in the center with an area wide enough
for palm trees, sidewalks, and park benches.
All the trees were wrapped with lights.
Above us intricate displays of snow flakes, bells and other Christmas
symbols were outlined in lights. At one
spot on the boulevard, the park in the middle was broad enough to accommodate a
bigger-than-life-sized wooden nativity set.
The taxi driver explained that many other streets are lighted during the
Christmas season but none so beautifully as this central one.
A town or city decorated for Christmas has
long been one of my favorites of the many traditions associated with the
holiday season. I remember, as a child
in Ozark, eagerly awaiting December 1st when Ozark’s lights would
turn the courthouse square into a carousel of lights. We could see the star from our house—wasn’t
it all red one year?—and if the weather weren’t too cold, Mother and I would walk the block and a half from our
house to enjoy the sight. The light
bulbs then were big, strung on heavy wires, and were in blue, red, green and
yellow.
The habit of strolling—rather than
driving—through the display of lights continued when my daughter and I lived in
Fayetteville. Drinking hot chocolate and strolling around
the square was enjoyable; later, showing off the lights to my grandson became a
delight.
Equally beautiful but in a different way
were the decorations in Lagos,
Portugal, the
small city of about 20,000 near our village there.
Much of central Lagos is for pedestrian traffic only. The walkways—in some places as narrow as a
sidewalk, in others a huge central area for outdoor cafes—are made of marble
blocks about 4 inches square driven into the ground long ago and worn smooth
with time and thousands of footsteps. Each sidewalk opening off a square features a
different seasonal theme in the designs that create a tunnel of light. The soft patina of the marble below reflects
the light enveloping the whole area in a soft glow. In the heavily traveled areas, the marble
glistens as if it were wet.
We think of light and dark as being
opposites, often giving them the connotations of “good” and “bad.” At Christmas, however, they complement each
other. Christmas lighting creates a
world where light and dark enhance one another.
The dark covers the common place, everyday world creating a soft
backdrop for the light. The light
transforms the dark into a magic world where adults are allowed the freedom of
shiny-eyed wonder.
Before the magic play of light and dark
become ho-hum, before the lights become ordinary, it’s January and the lights
go off, packed away in some under-the-stairs closet to be ignored until magic
time again.
