Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Over the years Earl and I have devised a tradition regarding our Christmas tree. In the beginning, I did all the work and Earl did all the admiring. I wasn’t so keen on this approach, and I once said that a tree wasn’t important to me at all. Turns out, it was important for him. Note to self: If it’s important to Earl, maybe he’d want to take a more active role. So I broached the subject.

Fast forward a few years and our tradition has taken hold. We assemble the artificial tree together. Earl checks the strands of lights to make sure they work. There is nothing more discouraging than putting a strand on the tree and then checking them, only to find nothing twinkles. After he checks them, I put the lights on. It’s a tedious job, but I believe well-placed lights are important. This takes a couple days, not because we have a big tree but because we intersperse the decorating around other activities.

Then we choose a night where both of us put on the ornaments. This year, we’re doing it tomorrow with spiked egg nog and holiday music. It will be great fun.

We’ve also gotten in the habit of buying ornaments when we travel. We look for representations of the places we’ve visited. This year, we have new ones from the Truman Little White House in Key West, Florida; the Roosevelt retreat in Warm Springs, Georgia;Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming, and Wall Drug in South Dakota.

And, in the building of our tradition, I can honestly say that decorating a Christmas tree means more to me than it once did.