My grandmother’s home possessed a magical appeal during the holidays. A live fir adorned the living room with antique ornaments and glittering tinsel. Strings of bubble lights draped the tree, granting an illusion of liquified fire flickering within glowing candles.

The bubble lights possessed a dark side. The candles grew hot to the touch, threatening to turn dry limbs into flashfire tinder. Shattered globes inflicted razor-sharp cuts. The ornaments contained methylene chloride, a toxic liquid if ingested, inhaled, or touched. The lights diminished in popularity during the 1970s, replaced by safer “fairy bulbs.”

Several years ago, a coworker found a novelty bubble light online. It plugged into an outlet and bubbled after a few minutes. I expressed my admiration of the ornament, and my personal Christmas light appeared at the church a few days later.

The ornament holds a year-round place of honor in my office. It highlights a collection of manger scenes that surround it. It bubbles constantly during the holidays, but I randomly turn it on throughout the year.

The bubble light invokes the Christmas spirit in my soul. It reminds me of an innocent age when I thought my grandmother’s home bordered the North Pole. The mélange of holiday memories makes me smile as I recall absent family.

I pray that you experience the holidays as Holy Days during this season of childlike wonder. If you need some help, then drop by the church and bask in the nostalgic glow of my bubble light.