An Unexpected Christmas Surprise

December 17, 2025

December at the Sheppard home has one main theme: Christmas lights.

Greg loves Christmas lights more than just about anything else. He plans his holiday display year-round, with the goal of adding something new each year.

By “something new,” I mean animated figures he makes himself from sheets of plywood and various motors. Things that one can purchase from a store are not Sheppard-approved, as we are Christmas light snobs purests.

Over the years, he has built an ice skating pond with moving figures, a Ferris wheel that turns, a teeter-totter that goes up and down, a helicopter with moving blades, a merry-go-round that spins, a nearly life-size nativity, and a gingerbread village.

Spanning the roofline, a lighted “Merry Christmas” cheerfully greets guests. One year, Santa and his sleigh sat alongside the joyful greeting until a windstorm got the best of him. Poor Santa never quite recovered and has not been seen since.

This year, with loads of uncertainty and change on the horizon, Greg’s biggest worry in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving was: “Will I be able to put up my lights for one more year?”

And, right then, with a million question marks still hanging in the air, he committed to one last year of Arizona Christmas light magic. He could not bear to leave the house dark and let the neighborhood down after 13 festive years.

But time was a bigger issue than we imagined. 

Normally, we invite family and friends over for a lighting ceremony on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. This year, two weeks before Thanksgiving, we made a last-minute trip to Missouri with a U-Haul full of stuff. Then, we came home for a few days and left again to drive to Utah to celebrate Thanksgiving and my parents’ 50^th wedding anniversary.

When we got home on the Sunday following Thanksgiving, the animated pieces were not yet assembled, the nativity sat in a pile by the street, and the lights were still in bins all over the yard, waiting to be wrapped on trees and bushes to showcase their glory. 

But, when two nights a week and Sundays are devoted to Bishoping, time has a way of disappearing quicker than an ice cube on an Arizona sidewalk in July.

Halfway through the first week of December, we were finally ready to turn on the lights, except for the Merry Christmas sign on the roof, which needed more attention than we had time to give. Hopefully, everyone will assume the lights themselves say “Merry Christmas,” whether or not there is a sign. 

I do not think that is too much to ask.

Two nights ago, I got home from a friend’s birthday party to a very excited husband. “You will never believe what just happened,” he exclaimed.

“Please enlighten me,” was my response, which likely did not match his enthusiasm. 

Let’s just pretend I am generally not very excitable, which comes back to the “grounded, steady, wise (but not boring)” persona that people have come to expect from me.

I digress.

Greg pulled up a video on his phone and began playing it for me. I saw two teenagers in aprons approach our front door, carrying an armful of stuff, ring the doorbell, and wait for Greg to answer.

“We are from AJ’s Fine Foods,” one of them said once the door was opened, “and we love your Christmas lights.”

I heard Greg thank them, afterwhich the speaker continued: “We both live in the area and have seen your Christmas lights every December for years. We were tasked with choosing a winner of AJ’s Neighborhood Spirit Award, and you are our unanimous choice. Congratulations!”

Greg could not be more thrilled as they presented him with a trophy and a cooler bag packed full of fancy holiday treats from AJ’s. He had won the proverbial lottery that he didn’t even know existed!

When I got home, he was almost giddy he was as giddy as a school boy who had been chosen first for a game of kickball. Knowing how much effort it took to get those lights out this year, this was a happy surprise that made it all worth it. 

The trophy now sits in a prominent place in our living room. He tells me it will be displayed year-round in our Kansas City home. This remains to be seen. 

Translation: It will surely not be displayed year-round, but I will not tell him so quite yet – you know, Christmas cheer and all that. Now is the time to celebrate the goodness of the lights and eat fancy AJ’s chocolates imported from Denmark. 

We are quite thoroughly spoiled.

**Read the rest of this series here.