Ted Lendley’s Gift to Moore County

Nearly 40 years of lights, faith, and generosity are a Christmas tradition

8:28 p.m. Dec. 20, 2025

DUANE CROSS
MCO Publisher•Editor

If you drive down a quiet county road in the woods of Moore County, you’ll find a place where Christmas feels like it did years ago. There’s no gate, no donation box, and no bright signs. Just a gentle glow through the trees, waiting for you.

That’s the Christmas light display on Lendley Lane. Ted Lendley has added to it every year, turning it into a small-town treasure that doesn’t need advertising. People hear about it the old way – someone simply says, “You’ve got to go see this.”

Ted says it all began in a simple way. Nearly 40 years ago, after building a small house on his land, he put up about 2,000 lights. Back then, the woods were thinner, and three little girls – the Kennemer girls, whose family has lived there since before the Civil War – would press their faces to a window to watch.

“That’s what did it,” Ted said. “We went and bought 10,000 lights the next year, just to put a show on for those babies.”

Each year, the display grew a little more.

Today, there are about 61,000 lights across the property. You’ll find nativity scenes, churches with small pews and baby dolls inside, and paths you can walk instead of just driving past. When visitors said they wanted to see everything up close, Ted made it happen.

That’s just how Ted likes to do things.

“I build it, then I walk way down there and look back at it,” he said. “Then I come back and tweak it, move it around. Every year I change it.”

‘Everybody knows something you don’t’

Setting up takes about a month, and Ted does most of the work between 3 and 7 in the morning – hours he’s always kept. He grew up as a sharecropper’s son, raising tobacco and milking cows before school. He learned early that skipping class meant more work in the fields. Ted left school after the eighth grade, got his GED, and became an industrial and master electrician. He’ll tell you that common sense and a willingness to keep learning matter more than any title.

“I took jobs away from college dudes,” he said with a grin. “Because I didn’t quit learning. Everybody knows something you don’t.”

You can see that way of thinking in both the lights and the life behind them.

Ted and his wife, Sara, have always chosen a simple life. They built three homes on their own and never had a mortgage. They drove old cars so they could buy lumber and 2-by-4s. They worked extra hours, hauled hay, and mowed lawns. While others laughed, they kept building. Now, many of those same people are still paying off their first house.

“God’s been good to us,” Ted said plainly. “We live simple.”

Sara takes care of decorating the inside of the house. She doesn’t come outside much in the cold because fibromyalgia and arthritis make it difficult. But she’s there, watching movies on the couch while Ted is outside, greeting visitors like family.

That’s exactly how it feels when you show up.

Some nights, cars trickle in one by one. Other nights, there might be as many as 50, depending on the weather and people’s plans. Ted helps direct traffic when needed. He waves, invites people to park, get out, and walk around. He always tells them the same thing:

“Treat it like you own it.”

‘All I want is a kid to smile’

Every year, people try to give donations, but Ted always turns them down.

“We don’t do that,” he said. “All I want is a kid to smile. Kids can be 1-year-old or 100.”

You’ll understand why when you see a toddler spot baby Jesus and light up with a joy that can’t be plugged in.

Everything here is Christian-based and intentional. Yard sale finds sit next to new LED lights, and thousands of old incandescent bulbs were replaced just this year. Churches stand among the trees. Nativity scenes keep appearing. “There’s two of them around here,” Ted laughed. “They just show up.” Then, quiet returns.

Out here, Ted feeds the deer, birds, possums, and raccoons. He goes through 300 to 500 pounds of birdseed each year, plus salt blocks and corn for the deer. He’s seen hawks, coyotes, and more wildlife than most people see in a lifetime. He drinks coffee before sunrise and watches the world wake up.

The neighbors are part of it, too. “Everybody supports it,” Ted said. “They love it. They get a front porch view.”

That sums up Moore County.

Lendley Lane isn’t flashy or commercial. It’s just one man, one family, and one community choosing, year after year, to give something away simply because it makes people smile.

During a season that can feel rushed, noisy, or overdone, that quiet glow in the woods serves as a reminder.

Christmas doesn’t need much.

Just a little light, and a lot of heart.