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Bits of Joy Rise From the Gloom

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Times Staff Writer

Santa Claus threatened to make Cindy Becker cry.

If she displays her Santa statue on her front lawn, as she does every Christmas, he’d bring attention to her house, one of the few standing after the October wildfires tore through San Bernardino’s Del Rosa community.

If she keeps Santa stashed in storage, his absence would remind her that this Christmas is marred by sadness and loneliness.

“It doesn’t seem right to decorate,” Becker said, walking outside of her front door, where candy canes, elves, reindeer, snowmen, icicle lights and mechanical teddy bears usually celebrate the holiday season. “It doesn’t really seem right to not decorate. Everything just feels weird. This street used to feel like Christmas.”

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The horseshoe-shaped enclave where Becker lives used to be a destination for local merrymakers. Families bundled in blankets drove through the area to bask in the cherry-red glow of the holiday decorations.

Newspapers published photographs of houses glimmering with lights.

Becker and her next-door neighbor, Phil Egan, competed to out-dazzle one another.

Now, ashen rubble, condemned houses and bulldozed properties mark the holidays along North Dwight Way, East Ralston Avenue and North Camellia Drive, where the wildfires destroyed 20 of the 34 homes.

Becker and her live-in partner, Nick Litras, returned to live in their smoke-damaged place around Thanksgiving. Surrounded by gloom, they figured they wouldn’t decorate this year.

Then, earlier this month, Becker spotted a blinking beam of light from a trailer on a nearby, blaze-ravaged lot.

“It filled me up with joy,” she said. “I figured if someone who lost their home had the Christmas spirit, then I should too.”

She broached the subject with Litras.

He wasn’t so sure, especially about hanging outdoor lights. “It’s like saying, ‘Hey! Hey! Look at us. Our house is still standing.’ ”

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“No, it’s not,” Becker replied.

But part of her agreed.

“I don’t know how to describe the feeling,” said Becker, 50, who, with Litras, runs a catering service and a popular Italian eatery in Highland.

“I look around the street, and so many people who lost their homes had young children or were elderly. Nick and I have grown children. We could have bounced back so much easier. Yet our house survived.”

Usually, Becker adorns the entire house in seasonal decor, right down to Santa Claus toilet paper.

However, this year, she decided that a tasteful scaling back would be OK, although she’d probably skip outdoor lights.

Besides, Becker figured, a big Christmas tree in front of the sliding-glass door would block the view of blackened trees in her backyard as well as the neighbors’ charred house behind them.

She asked Litras to bring home two of the 47 plastic cartons of holiday decorations the couple keep in storage.

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Becker hung a half a dozen 5-foot stockings on the mantel.

She unrolled a wool Santa rug on the foyer floor.

She created a display from pieces of her Department 56 Snow Village, complete with an ice-skating pond, Starbucks and Harley-Davidson store.

Even the family dog, Toshi, got merry, sneaking into his gift of lamb-flavored jerky treats.

“It felt good to decorate,” she said.

Jake, her 5-year-old nephew, approved.

“He actually wanted to stay at our house,” Becker said. “He hasn’t liked to visit [since the fires]. He’d say, ‘Aunt Cindy’s house is spooky.’ ”

Her nephew’s endorsement encouraged Becker to ornament a live, scented, 7 1/2-foot Christmas tree with lace, gold ribbons and shimmering glass balls.

Becker’s mood lifted, but she was still conflicted over whether it was appropriate to decorate.

“Would my neighbors look at this and feel bad?”

Not Susan Clark. The 32-year-old mother of three lost her 1,900-square-foot house and day-care center.

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Clark, who had stopped by Becker’s house to collect toys for needy children, walked around the living room, staring at the holiday trimmings -- in silence.

Christmas carols played in the background, cranberry-apple cider simmered on the stove and cinnamon candles perfumed the air.

Her eyes moistened, but instead of crying, Clark smiled at Becker. “Your tree is pretty,” she said. “Everything is so pretty.”

Egan also dropped by. He’s the one who tries to one-up the Beckers in a friendly Christmas-decorating competition. But their rivalry is on hold because although his house still stands, he and his family are living in temporary housing, waiting for damage repairs.

His eyes twinkled. He looked at Becker. “Next year, my house is going to look better than yours.”

“Oh, no,” Becker said. “I’m going to blow you away.

Clark piped in: “I’m going to go to the after-Christmas sales, and I’m going to blow you all away.”

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They laughed. Just like old times.

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