Cascade Observations: A tradition of holiday cards

Opening the mail is decidedly more interesting during the holidays, when the special cards arrive each day, eclipsing the pleading requests for donations and the endless ads for stuff I don’t need and don’t want. And what I want more than anything is to hear from loved ones.

 

My parents instilled in me a love for holiday cards. They were major supporters of the greeting card companies and the United States Postal Service, sending 350 cards every year. Come the early fall, a salesman would drop off large notebooks of card samples. We would all browse the notebooks and select the image that would be THE card for that year’s greeting. When our order arrived, my dad would write the annual letter, pull out his card file with names and addresses, and pen personal messages. Sealed and stamped, we dropped off the heavy boxes at the post office, and waited with anticipation for people to send cards back to us. 

 

In the mid-’70s, my parents began asking me to design a card for them, a task I enjoyed so much that when I married and started my own family, I continued the tradition, designing and sending cards to relatives and friends. This has become one of the most significant rituals of the holiday season. 

 

This year, I mailed 100 cards, and though I didn’t get 100 cards in return, I’m delighted to say the mantle was filled with cards from near and far. The younger generations (are they X, Y or Z?) favor photo cards; it’s delightful to see families grow and change.

 

Since 1986, my artistic sister-in-law has been saving my cards in a beautifully designed scrapbook, one page for each year.  Other than reading Truman Capote’s “A Christmas Memory” annually, paging through the scrapbook is one of my favorite acts of the holiday season.

 

The received cards are gone from the mantle now, some in storage, some to recycling and others to my art studio, where they may be used in future collages. My friend Larry keeps a stack on his desk, choosing a card randomly each day. Then he says a little prayer for the person who was thoughtful enough to send him a card. He repeats this for the entire year.

 

Before carefully storing the scrapbook away, I revisit the cards I made and the messages I’ve sent along with the images I’ve created. The most joyful cards are those that feature my 2-year-old grandson; recent images are all about him. A few more serious messages still seem applicable, years after I created them. Herewith, a few favorites that have weathered time quite well.

 

1986: “Peace — let it begin in our hearts”

 

1992: “A recipe for holiday seasoning: Blend together 1 cup generosity, 1 cup gaiety, 2 cups tolerance, 2 ½ cups compassion, and 3 cups humor.  Use liberally throughout the coming year.”

 

1993: A drawing of an apple adorns the front of the card.  Inside, an image of the apple sliced in half with the message “Look inside to find the star.”

 

2004: I purchased a jigsaw puzzle with an image of a Pine Grove barn and Mount Hood. A small envelope glued on the front of each card holds just one piece of the puzzle, with the phrase “Piece on Earth.” Inside, the card reads, “The piece you find adhered to the front of this card comes from a puzzle depicting the beautiful valley where we live. It represents our connections with each other. At a time when the world feels sad and broken, may we remind ourselves how we fit together as a human family. Together we have the potential to solve the puzzles of our planet. Peace on Earth.” Sixteen years after I created this card, its message still resonates with me.