It’s a tradition in our family that on the evening that D and K decorate our Christmas tree, I read aloud from Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. We never get past the first chapter of the first stave, of course, but we like to do it anyway.
I continue with the book on my own, reading it gradually over Christmas week (along with the three or four other books I have going at any one time).
I never tire of A Christmas Carol; I always find some new insight, or clever turn of phrase, or subtle nuance that I had not noticed before.
That’s true for all good books; they bear reading many times over a lifetime.