This is the time of year when people start talking about the "magic of the season," and those wonderfully sappy movies start showing up on TV like "Miracle on 34th Street" and "It's a Wonderful Life."

	Budinger

It's hard to believe, but there was a time when I snickered at the wonder of Christmas, made fun of those who threw themselves like loons into the holiday season and grinched like the worst Scrooge, believing that nothing but the most avarice thoughts of mankind flourished in the name of Christmas.

Then I mellowed. Having kids will do that. Having grandkids will do it even more. You can't hang around children at Christmas time without some of that unsullied belief in all things good rubbing off on you. Add a few years of wisdom and thoughtful observation of the human condition, and I began to believe that, yes, there may be something to this spirit-of-the-season thing.

It's a time of year when wonderful things can happen. Or, more accurately, it's a time of year when the wonderful things that happen can be more easily seen. Think about that ... as I change the subject abruptly to lights and trains and the floods of Sept. 17, 2004.

It's been more than a year, and homes and businesses and people still are not entirely whole after the devastating floods that inundated river towns and low-lying communities throughout the Pittsburgh region. Last Christmas was a dismal time for many who had lost everything and were still struggling to get back to just normal living ... let alone celebrating a holiday.

Among the massive relief efforts that mobilized were grass-roots campaigns to supply holiday decorations to needy homeowners and to restore some holiday traditions in the damaged towns.

One of those traditions was the annual model train display at All Saints School in Etna.

A school fund-raiser for almost a decade, the community looked forward to the train display as a popular holiday event every year. But when the flood swept through the school, it left most of the trains, track and miniature villages buried in mud. Little survived, and organizers believed it was gone forever.

But parishioners, the town and train modelers from as far away as Ohio wouldn't let that happen. Donated trains, track and equipment began arriving. Volunteers pitched in. And while the flood had closed the struggling All Saints School for good, a smaller display was mounted last Christmas at nearby St. Bonaventure School in Shaler.

This year, however, a new and improved display is back home -- filling a classroom at the otherwise unused All Saints School and filling a flood-riven gap in the town's holiday spirit.

April Giel, of Shaler, who with her husband, Norman, are among the volunteers who put the display together, said she is seeing people who say they are coming back for their eighth year to view the trains.

"Last year at St. Bonaventure was kind of like the Phoenix [rising from the ashes]," she said. "This year, it's definitely a comeback. We're back to roost at the school."

With donated and salvaged equipment, this year's display boasts six trains, including a small trolley and a circus train; mountains; tunnels; an industrial scene "with a water tower that works;" a railroad turntable; and much more.

If you want to see it, the display is open from 6 to 9 p.m. Fridays, noon to 9 p.m. Saturdays and noon to 6 p.m. Sundays through Jan. 8. A donation of $3 for adults and $1 for children is requested.

Then there's the story of Bill (don't call him Billy) Hart, the 15-year-old electronics whiz kid whose holiday light display each year at his home in the Glenshaw community of Shaler has become legendary. If you haven't already, you can read about him in today's North cover story.

The flood destroyed his lights and ornaments when water and mud poured into the basement of the family home. The teenager was crushed. "I could only save two things, a Winnie the Pooh blowup and one little Christmas tree," Bill said.

He, too, thought it was going to be a pretty sparse and lightless Christmas. But friends, neighbors, teachers and people he didn't even know stepped in with donations, and Bill was able to mount a pretty decent light show last year.

This year, it's back to being spectacular, a real traffic-stopper on Saxonburg Boulevard.

These are two small but visible reflections of the determined efforts by these flood-stricken communities to return to normalcy -- with their holiday season intact. They celebrate the amazing resiliency of small towns in southwestern Pennsylvania -- from Etna to Connoquenessing -- and the kind of spirit that brings the true meaning of community into play at a time of year when anything is possible.