A softer glow in Ilocos Norte: When practicality shapes Christmas
In many homes across Ilocos Norte, Christmas no longer arrives with dazzling lights or towering trees. Instead, it comes quietly—through a single parol by the window, reused decorations from years past, or sometimes none at all. For many Ilokano families, this shift is a conscious and practical choice.
Electricity costs have become a major consideration. Christmas lights, once symbols of abundance and cheer, now carry expenses that linger well beyond the holidays. A fully illuminated home can mean higher monthly bills—money that could instead be spent on food, school needs, medicine, or savings. Even energy-efficient lights add up. As a result, some families now turn lights on only for a few evening hours, while others reserve them for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
This sense of restraint is not new in Ilocos Norte. It is part of a long-standing way of life.
Yet even as households choose simplicity, Christmas remains visible—carried not by individual homes, but by shared spaces.
Government buildings across the province continue to glow throughout the season. Giant Christmas trees at the Ilocos Norte Provincial Capitol, city halls, and municipal halls stand as symbols of hope. These public displays do not compete with private homes; rather, they remind residents that Christmas is a collective celebration. For many, seeing these lights on the way home is enough to feel the season without adding to household expenses.
The same sense of shared celebration extends to commercial spaces.
At SM City Laoag, Christmas comes alive through towering trees, festive décor, and roaming mascots that delight children and families. The mall’s holiday displays create a space where people can experience the season free of charge. Families who keep things simple at home still find moments of wonder here—children posing by giant trees, parents watching quietly from benches, laughter echoing through decorated halls.
In this way, malls have become modern town plazas—places where Christmas is shared rather than owned.
Still, when Ilokanos speak of what truly matters, the answer remains clear. What counts is that everyone is present and healthy. A family gathered around a modest Noche Buena. No empty chairs. No illness overshadowing the night. A meal that may be simple, but shared with gratitude.
Simbang Gabi continues at dawn, drawing people into quiet streets and filled churches. The lights may be fewer, but faith remains steady. For many older residents, this kind of Christmas feels familiar—closer to a time when joy did not depend on display.
Ilocos Norte’s Christmas this year glows softly. Homes are dimmer, bills are lighter, and priorities are clearer. Public spaces shine as beacons of hope, malls create moments of shared wonder, and families hold fast to what matters most.
Because in the end, decorations can wait and expenses can be managed—but a complete family, good health, and hope shared with the community are priceless.
