Some stories get told over and over again at Christmas. Frosty the Snowman, Night Before Christmas,  The Wise Men and Shepherds. This is one I like to remember and particularly this year.

One of the Christmas traditions for Canadian families involves putting up the tree.

Flashback to 1957.

Our family has recently moved into a new house on Victoria Street in London, Ontario. It is time to put up the Christmas tree. My Dad is delegated to get a tree and bring it home for the family to adorn on a wintry Saturday afternoon.

Dad drags the tree into the living room, leaving a trail of sticky pine needles through the kitchen and over the dining room carpet. The tree, of course, is much bigger inside than it appeared on the lot. The top spire is bent up against the ceiling. Dad heads back out to the garage to cut it…