I. Why I wrote it down
Every November, somebody asks me why their tree looks tired
It's usually said in a whisper, as if it's something to be ashamed of. "Marilyn, I've got boxes and boxes of beautiful things, and the tree still looks… flat."
Last year it was my neighbor Ruth. Thirty years of ornaments, two good strings of lights, and a tree that looked like it had given up. She was ready to drive to the store and start again.
We didn't buy a thing. We took everything off, fluffed every branch, put the lights in deep, and hung her ornaments in three layers the way I used to dress a window. Then we added one thing that glowed, one thing that moved, and one thing she didn't expect: her mother's old felt angel, right at eye level.
Ruth stood back and cried a little. So did I.
Your tree didn't need more. It needed the order a window dresser works in, and nobody ever taught you.
That order is what this book is. Every room, every step, the way I did it for thirty Christmases, so you can do it in one weekend with what's already in your attic.
Marilyn
Keep a little Christmas in the window, dear.