John Becker was an engineer who gave life to his wife’s decorations by motorizing them. Phyllis Becker loved Christmas and wanted to share her love for the holiday by creating Christmas decorations for their house. I only learned recently that the “Christmas House” of my childhood memories was owned by a family known as the Beckers. We didn’t know the family who owned the house, but every year, they welcomed strangers with their decorations, spreading Christmas cheer all around our community and town. Here’s the video from YouTube of what the house looked like: Sometimes we’d wait in the long line of cars to drive ever-so-slowly past the house, wanting to draw out the moment and make it last as we basked in the glow of a million twinkling lights and cheery Christmas music. Sometimes we’d park the car blocks away to walk to the house, taking our time to admire each and every detail of the intricate display. And then, like a blazing emblem of jolly holiday spirit, the Christmas House would appear, glowing even from a block or two away. We’d drive through darkened streets, perhaps past several houses strung with lights and a few lawn ornaments. As kids, we looked forward to it each year. Visiting the house wasn’t just a quick, “been there, done that,” item to mark off our holiday to-do list.

The house became the embodiment of Christmas spirit. Nearly every inch of the front yard was decorated with moving and singing elves, reindeer, penguin, and dozens of other Christmas creatures.

It glowed with thousands upon thousands of lights. During the holiday season, though, the house transformed from ordinary to extraordinary. The house was in a neighborhood much like many others in Simi Valley, and during any other time of the year you might drive past the house without giving it a second glance.

One of these traditions was our annual visit to the “Christmas House.” The Simi Valley “Christmas House” We were starting a new family together, building new relationships that would be long-lasting and wonderful, and along with this came new family traditions.

December weather in Southern California rarely fell below freezing temperatures, but there was still a crisp nip in the air as we piled into my dad’s car to make our yearly pilgrimage to the “Christmas House.” The tradition began when I was around eleven or twelve, around the time my dad and stepmom bought their house in Simi Valley, California.

Hot Cocoa Hearts by Suzanne Nelson