Tradition is all about forced time together

Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind.

- Mary Ellen Chase

Our family has few traditions, but one that keeps hanging around is this: Every weekend after Thanksgiving we go get the Christmas tree.

This has remained a tradition because my wife wants us ALL to go, although my 11-year-old son and I embrace the task with the same enthusiasm we share for sweater shopping.

In fact, the 11-year-old was asking me the night before if maybe he could beg off, stay home and let Mom pick out the tree.

"No," I told him. "Come along. Work on your patience skills. Participate. It will be good practice for marriage."

With a small concession, he went along with the plan, and it really wasn't so bad.

He quickly noticed a tree he liked, and before I had a chance to grumble about the high cost of evergreen, he and his mother announced the lucky fir had been selected and it was quickly prepared for its rooftop ride home.

"See," I told him later, "that wasn't so bad."

He agreed. Besides, we both have something to look forward to next year. I told him we'd make the tree selection process a full family project by taking the dog along and letting him pick out the tree.

That should be interesting.

MORE MAIL: Believe it or not, people are traveling this time of year, and it's not any place nearby, according to their postcards.

Marty and Doris Charnock are taking a train through Mexico. "Great scenery," they write.

Paul and Betty, of Augusta, send a card from China, where they visited Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong.

And Evelyn Casey, of Martinez, sends a postcard from Spain, where she reports, you can order beer "at McDonald's!"

(Well, Evelyn, I guess that's their idea of a Happy Meal.)

TODAY'S JOKE: It was the day after Christmas.

The pastor of a church was looking over the Nativity scene when he noticed the baby Jesus was missing from among the figures. Immediately he turned and went outside and saw a little boy with a red wagon, and in the wagon was the figure of the little infant, Jesus.

So he walked up to the boy and said, "Well, where did you get him, my fine friend?"

The little boy replied, "I got him from the church."

"And why did you take him?"

The boy said, "Well, about a week before Christmas, I prayed to the little Lord Jesus and I told him if he would bring me a red wagon for Christmas, I would give him the first ride in it."