There is a corner of my flat where it is always Christmas.
I live in a really tiny flat, little more than a bedsit, on the edge of London. I was driven there by the events of the Move From Hell - to those who remember, you know what I mean, and to those who don't, you don't want to know. Among other things, I had had nearly every stick of furniture and electrics stolen or destroyed, and for a while I slept on the floor.
Eventually, thanks to a small Catholic charity found by connections of my mother's family (never underrate the power of an Italian family! - they can even furnish a bare flat for a family member two thousand kilometres away in another country), I found enough furniture and goods to get going; and a kind person at the same charity threw in, free of charge, a small artificial Christmas tree. It was late October, after all, and it would be Christmas soon.
Christmas came and went, and I decided that, rather than place a further burden on my scarce storage space, the little tree could remain in the corner where I had put it, where it was in nobody's way and even sort of decorative. More recently, I have bought a small Nativity to complement it. And here it is, as well as my camera could take them:
According to custom, I will not add in the Baby until Christmas morning. And the blessings of Christmas to all of you, and all possible happiness.