Here's a piece I wrote for the Army Times in December 1993. It was a little lengthy, so I'm lopping off the first several paragraphs. They titled it:
Those Holiday Letters Keep Coming...and Coming
The onslaught of holiday mail is something I begin looking forward to as soon as the weather turns crisp. It starts about December first, thanks to a few zealous friends whose Thanksgiving traditions include stuffing a turkey and their Christmas card envelopes.
I look at holiday mail as a fleeting encounter with the person at the other end. It's a quick gift that comes packaged with memories of a shared past, wrapped in the personality of the sender. Holiday cards that don't include a message of some sort are disappointing.
Personality is revealed more by the style of a holiday letter than by what it says. Some of our more imaginative friends have penned their season's greetings from the point of view of their pets and unborn children, while others have published mini family newspapers. Last year a former college roommate related the year's events via pattern poetry in the shape of a Christmas tree.
Regardless of style and format, almost every military family we know produces a computer-generated newsletter. In contrast, when I was a kid, exactly one family's message was typed and mass-produced. My brothers and sisters and I would read this annual epistle with wildly exaggerated expressions and grand gestures. We figured these pretentious people thought they were a little more special than the rest of us, so we mocked them.
I now surmise that if not for typewriter and copy machine, we ingrates would likely have been the first ones crossed off this former military family's season's greetings list.
I like reading anything anybody has to say in a Christmas letter.
There is something comforting about hearing from people whose lives change very little as the years go by and from those who go through more changes than we do. It makes us feel like we're right where we're supposed to be.
I enjoy being surprised by what some have written, and just as much, I enjoy the predictability of others--such as the apologies and excuses offered by those sending computer letters for the first time, instead of the "real thing." Apparently, my siblings and I weren't the only former scoffers of this type of holiday letter.
What I like most is reading how everyone else's children are the best and brightest. I smile because I know better--and so will all my family and friends as soon as they read my own holiday newsletter this year.
I look at holiday mail as a fleeting encounter with the person at the other end. It's a quick gift that comes packaged with memories of a shared past, wrapped in the personality of the sender. Holiday cards that don't include a message of some sort are disappointing.
Personality is revealed more by the style of a holiday letter than by what it says. Some of our more imaginative friends have penned their season's greetings from the point of view of their pets and unborn children, while others have published mini family newspapers. Last year a former college roommate related the year's events via pattern poetry in the shape of a Christmas tree.
Regardless of style and format, almost every military family we know produces a computer-generated newsletter. In contrast, when I was a kid, exactly one family's message was typed and mass-produced. My brothers and sisters and I would read this annual epistle with wildly exaggerated expressions and grand gestures. We figured these pretentious people thought they were a little more special than the rest of us, so we mocked them.
I now surmise that if not for typewriter and copy machine, we ingrates would likely have been the first ones crossed off this former military family's season's greetings list.
I like reading anything anybody has to say in a Christmas letter.
There is something comforting about hearing from people whose lives change very little as the years go by and from those who go through more changes than we do. It makes us feel like we're right where we're supposed to be.
I enjoy being surprised by what some have written, and just as much, I enjoy the predictability of others--such as the apologies and excuses offered by those sending computer letters for the first time, instead of the "real thing." Apparently, my siblings and I weren't the only former scoffers of this type of holiday letter.
What I like most is reading how everyone else's children are the best and brightest. I smile because I know better--and so will all my family and friends as soon as they read my own holiday newsletter this year.
2 comments:
"What I like most is reading how everyone else's children are the best and brightest. I smile because I know better--and so will all my family and friends as soon as they read my own holiday newsletter this year."
I love this paragraph! So true! ;-)
Thanks for sharing this. It made me smile.
Pam, I'm crafting our holiday newsletter right now, complete with a picture of my perfect children under the giant tree at the Menger Hotel. You'll be the first one to snicker! Great post!
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