 |
| Cardinal in snow, photo by Rob Tomlinson |
In my
parents' generation, sending out Christmas cards was a big deal and a
husband/wife project. My parents never put together one of those awful
Christmas letters (and in fact mocked their relatives and friends who did send
them out) but the sending of the cards was a project that consumed at least one
night in the pre-holiday run-up.
They'd
divide up the writing chores although my father's handwriting was barely
legible--I was the only one in the family who could read it--and my mother had
art school handwriting that was as precise and readable as machine print. They
had different signatures depending on who the card's recipient was,
"Mickey and Tom" for their friends, "Mildred and Parrish"
for his relatives, and so forth.
They always
bought special Christmas stamps to use on their cards and they had two
different kinds of cards--some kind of religious theme for the relatives, more
general holiday cards for their Jewish friends and colleagues. They probably
sent out a hundred cards a year and got at least as many in return. The cards
were displayed over the mantle and on top of the bookcases and gave the house a
really festive air.
