Our fake tree lives in the basement most of the year, with a big plastic bag over it. But on Thanksgiving night, Darlene and I set it up in the living room and turned on the lights. Presto. Now this is my favorite room in the house, especially in the dark. Darlene has added ribbons to the decorations, and we have one present under the tree so far. I sit on the couch across from the windows and feel full. The tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut, informs everything this week, making what’s precious even more so. The darkness is never banished. But each season, the lights come out to honor a birth. This is so very right. Merry Christmas, every one!