It’s all about lifting spirits and creating a mood.

And it’s been that way since its pagan roots.

One of the brightest aspects of winter, in my opinion, is the decorated tree.

I was a kid growing up in the anthracite region, where we’d cut down a tree and anchor it into a galvanized bucket filled with coal.

The smell of evergreen filled the large house. Colorful lights cascaded through the rooms, creating a special, festive aura for December.

Today, as a single retiree, I don’t bother putting up a real tree, even though I’m certain the two cats would love it.

Instead, each year I drive 75 miles round trip to the unveiling of the Coney Tree, one of the most glorious in the region.

It stands 18 feet high, towering over the tables, chairs and counter of 105-year-old Coney Island Lunch in Shamokin.

“This year is different,” said hostess Sharon Wichurowski. “The tree is a concolor, which smells like oranges.”

She’s been dishing out hot dogs and hamburgers at the eatery for 51 years.

But every year at Christmas, Sharon turns into one of Santa’s elves. She taps into an innate decorating talent to create a unique tree with old-fashioned flare.

The result is a Yule presentation that attracts visitors from all over Pennsylvania and beyond.

In some ways, the style is traditional and basic. Yet the finished tree is majestic beyond words.

Truth be told, the Coney Tree tradition struggled to take place this year. Unexpected trouble.

“We ordered the usual 25,000 lights. But the shipment was lost in the mail,” Sharon said.

As a result, the Coney Tree was late for its debut.

I kept in touch with Sharon on a daily basis for progress updates, starting at Thanksgiving.

“Keep calling me and I’ll let you know where it stands. I don’t want you to make the drive for nothing.”

Finally, on Dec. 8, the tree was unveiled. Another masterpiece and spectacle. It soars upward like a rocketing kaleidoscope.

It complements the décor of a lunch room that features an original 1800s pressed tin ceiling more than 20 feet high.

“This year I just couldn’t get the star on top, even standing at the top of the ladder. I just couldn’t reach over.”

Sharon allowed me the honor of placing the final ornament, the finishing touch. Not the star, but a round, glittery globe I brought from home. I wanted part of home to be on that tree. By sheer luck, my ornament was a perfect match to what Sharon was already using.

“It’s so nice that you want to do this,” she said.

The pleasure was all mine. It took me back to a 1960 Tamaqua Christmas.

I remember carefully draping silver strands of tinsel on a holiday evergreen, hoping it’d sparkle to the max. In my eyes, the tinsel resembled the town’s dramatic, illuminated, silver chandelier that hung over West Broad and Berwick Street, a block from my house.

After eating lunch, I really didn’t want to leave the Coney Tree. So I spent part of day in Shamokin, chatting with Sharon and her sister Jean Knapick, and customers who strolled in, many telling me they came to see the tree.

It proves how special a holiday tree can be.

It doesn’t need to represent any particular religion. Or paganism. Or anything at all. Heck, some people now put up Valentine trees. And that’s just fine.

It doesn’t need to be more than what it is.

The Yule tree is a simple symbol of hope with fanciful colors to brighten our winter solstice world.

The best part is that it brings people together with a smile when days are dark and cold.

Anything that does that is a winner.

We need more holiday trees in this world.