By Joy Kraft
The Cincinnati Enquirer

It's hard to say whether Christmas was made for Norma Spencer or the soon-to-be great-grandma in Franklin was made for the holiday.

No matter. Christmas burns brightly in her 64-year-old heart. There's no doubt once you've seen her gilded home, slurped the "soup beans and cornbread" and gobbled a buckeye or two from her kitchen confectionery.

Where to see a lot of lights (Brandi Stafford photo)

"Honey, Christmas is my holiday," says the Lee County, Ky., native whose favorite color is red. She sprinkles the conversation with as many "honeys" and "sweethearts" as there are lights twinkling on her house.

It wasn't always that way. Though she loved the holiday as a kid, her Beattyville, Ky., parents couldn't afford the lights, the trimmings, the trees.

She's been making up for it since, marrying, at 16, Milton, now 75.

"To tell you the truth hon, it became my goal once I got married . . . to decorate for Christmas. I thought I'd fulfill one of my dreams and maybe somebody else's."

It's hard to tell exactly what year she accomplished her goal, looking at the thousands of outdoor lights, sleighs, Santas and Nativity scenes or the indoor rooms decorated down to the pictures on the wall wrapped as Christmas presents.

She thinks she jumped overboard about 1975 when she worked at Hill's department store - in the trim-a-tree department.

"The day after Christmas I had to mark everything down and you know honey, I took advantage."

First, it was a tree and a Santa, a couple of snowmen, a deer and wrapped faux presents for the tree. Then a sleigh and a Nativity scene. When the presents wouldn't fit under one tree, she simply added another tree. And another, filling every room in the house and spilling on to the lawn, the roof, the lot next door - all to Milton's vexation.

She quit Hill's because of back problems, and picked up making crafts - swags, centerpieces, wreaths. She then moved to sewing, stitching Santa chair covers and curtains.

Now, each year for six weeks, she hauls boxes up from the basement and in from the garage and storage areas outside. Curtains come down, windows are washed and nary a corner is untouched by snowmen or Santa.

"Every time I open a box, it's like Christmas Day," Spencer says. "Most are marked, but I've forgotten what's inside. Opening each one is like a new present."

It doesn't stop there.

She finished decorating Dec. 8 and cranked up the oven Dec. 9.

You see, every year, more than 100 people troop through the house - sometimes 15 a night, most of them members of the Carlisle Baptist Tabernacle Church or family members from Kentucky or in-laws or passers-by with kids in tow - and "sweetie, I have to feed them and give them snacks," she says.

"She's just such a caring heart," says Jennifer Tyler of Hyde Park, who attends her church. "They are the sweetest, most loving people."

Though cancer has clipped Norma's and Milton's wings, and she's weathered open-heart surgery and arthritis, she can't quite seem to let darkness into the season, despite warnings from her three grown children.

Besides, "I'm a fighter," she says. "But I did promise my husband I would slow down next year. But God's the one in control, so it's up to him.

"It all more or less takes me back to childhood and reminds me why we have Christmas, the day Jesus was born. There's no doubt about what the season means here. I have Nativity scenes all through the house, and outside."

Night after night when the sun fades, cars snake over the Clear Creek Bridge, seeking Norma's light. Years ago, when she first noticed the crawling cars, she was home alone and it spooked her.. Then she realized they were just looking for her lights, for Christmas.

"If the lights are on outside, people are welcome inside.

"Honey, you can't miss it."

Just follow Norma's light.

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Directions: I-75 north to the Franklin/Lebanon exit and take a left on Ohio 123. Then left on Anderson. Cross the Clear Creeek Bridge and the road turns into Shaker. You can't miss the house at 7116 Shaker Road.

E-mail jkraft@enquirer.com