How delighted I am! In 12 days we’ll be putting up the tree, devoting ourselves to the laborious activity that usually takes anywhere from 3-5 hours. I absolutely love this tradition; I adore waking from my thanksgiving nap to mum prying open the box to our faithful artificial tree. We got a new one this year, a 7 and a half foot pre-lit tree that will stand majestically in our sitting room in less than two weeks. Everything is so precise; such attention is paid to establishing the perfect balance. We stand back, searching, looking for the perfect place to put that one ornament. Weeks after it is up we continue to perfect it, moving a golden ball here or there when we walk by only to have the other saunter on by and put it back. A gold silk runner will sit atop a rich maroon silk on the coffee table, upon which will be placed the exquisite Italian-crafted nativity I’ve been in charge of setting up for years. Ricky and I will combine our forces to tackle the porcelain village, which takes brilliance and practicality. Ricky is appointed head of electrical, while I stack videos underneath a white cloth and position the small houses and shops, the school and the white church.

Mum has given me grief; I’ve been mad and angry and hurt by the way she chooses to fill her roll as a parent at times. But she has always made this season so significant for me, I never flood with excitement for anything else, really. Our family is rich with tradition when November rolls around, and I enjoy life much more that usual. It’s fun to decorate the house and cook cookies and sing carols, but what a wonderful thing to celebrate! How honored I am to recognize the birth of my Lord!