O, Christmas Bush; O, Christmas Bush...

For years we've been getting huge Christmas trees -- the bigger the better. It would take the entire family to drag it to the car and tie it on top. We always used a step ladder to decorate. One year we went so large we couldn't get it through our front door. I'm talking massive.

When we moved to Cincinnati, it remained a family tradition to hunt down the tree together even though 8-foot ceilings limited our search. It was hard to think smaller. We've gouged the ceiling several times trying to squeeze the most tree into our limited space.

This year, everything changed. My wife, who has always thought the tree at Rockafeller Plaza is on the small side, was the first to suggest we downsize. Much cheaper and less hassle, she said. And since the two of us were alone in our search this year, the majority ruled. But when I hoisted it onto the stand in our family room (one-handed, I might add), we both had to laugh. Nice shape. Wonderful smell. But it looks like we cut a bush out of someone's front yard. I kind of feel sorry for it.

Hoping to avoid a holiday disaster, I called our daughter in South Carolina to offer an advanced warning. "Remember, honey," I said, "it's not the size of the tree that matters. It's the family that gathers around it."

Our Christmas bush makes me smile now every time I see it. It's a symbol of a new freedom & joy I'm finding in Christmas. The hunt for bigger & better is over. Less room under the tree for presents means more room around the tree for sharing, laughter and fun. Score one for simplicity.

I promise I'm not going Scrooge. In fact, the opposite is true. I feel more like Mr. Scrooge after the ghosts had visited. I'm suddenly free to enjoy this season for what it is meant to be.

And if you're missing a bush in your front yard... it wasn't me. I've got a receipt.