This is the oldest family picture I could find with a Christmas tree, taken by my older sister. Wow! We really got dressed up for Christmas morning.
I remember the time spent with my Dad shopping for the Christmas tree: going to several grocery store lots looking for the perfect tree. I would hold up the tree, while my Dad walked around and inspected it for straightness and fullness. The final, and perhaps the most important feature, was the tree’s smell. If he couldn’t smell it, it wasn’t “fresh cut”.
Decorating the tree was a family event (ordeal?). I liked hanging the bulbs, but tinsel was like a prison sentence — especially when we had to take it off after Christmas to reuse it next year.
Thought for the Day: It’s not what’s under the Christmas tree that matters, it’s who is around it.