We all harbour individual memories of what makes Christmas ‘Christmassy’, whether it be carols, fairy lights, shop windows, plum pudding, brandy butter, or a bracing walk on Stephen’s Day followed by cold turkey and chutney. For me, it was never truly Christmas ’til the kaleidoscopic collection of cards from across the globe danced on lengths of twine around the sitting room walls. Cards with Santa, snowmen, robins, reindeer, snow-bound villages, carol singers, baubles, nativity scenes, hand-made or recycled cards, Unicef charity cards, or the somewhat in-your-face religious cards, arguably the only ones carrying the true Christmas message.
Donning my Scrooge hat, there are however cards I have a problem with.
What’s with the production-line cards from people you hear from once a year, with two names, nothing else? “Brian and Miriam”. Not even “With love” or “Best Wishes” – seriously?
E-cards are an equally unacceptable cop-out. Are you aware that two Sequoias and a sycamore sacrificed their lives, and an endangered species of squirrel was made homeless in order to manufacture your card? No, you’re sending me an E-card ‘cos you’re lazy.
Too much of our lives are already ‘virtual’. It’s too easy to email, text, tweet and Facebook. Relationships and friendships take work, time, patience and effort, so let’s make them ‘real’ like they used to be. Send a card, with hand-written lines from the heart, and in so doing keep alive the art of letter-writing, and hand-writing. If you must send a card with a picture of your perfect family or your performing pet on the front, at least take the time to compose a few well-thought-out lines.
And what’s with the annual card from my old gym offering me 20% discount before I inhale copious amounts of mince pies and Christmas cake? What’s this – you’ll pay me 300 euro towards my membership to remind me how fat, unfit, worthless and self-loathing I am? Aw, bless you.
However the prize must go to the ‘round-robin’ letter, where the only thing Christmassy is that ‘robin’ is in the name. Every year I vow to immediately recycle ‘round-robins’, yet somehow they become a sort of ‘guilty pleasure’, impossible to put down.
In my head I’ve compiled countless responses…….
You’ve tweeted and Facebooked all year, yet found the time to compose a lengthy summary just in case any of us missed crucial tidbits from your riveting lives. I appreciate I’m not the chosen one, this gripping epistle of recent events has delighted multiple fortuitous recipients. Does this banal boasting session make you feel just a fraction better than the rest of us, as you recount stories of your high-achieving kids, exotic holidays, bathroom redecorations, decking, and charity work? Incidentally the scanned-in photo of your new Bichon-Frise obediently sitting outside the organic veggie poly-tunnel was charming.
We’re all thrilled for you that you’ve paid off your mortgage. The rest of us struggle on.
It was fun to hear about Daniel being ’the perfect Artful Dodger’ while excelling in bassoon and orienteering.
Well done to Molly for stealing the show as Mary in the Nativity – clearly her drama classes are finally paying off, maybe next year she will even be given a line. I am certain her ‘swan-like posture and poise’ is down to her Distinction in her Grade 1 Ballet.
And pass our congratulations to Katie for coming first in English – perhaps she can offer you a basic introduction to grammar, or maybe she can just correct your letter before you make those hundred copies. And Jack – ‘almost top of his class’? Do let us know when he’s actually top, we are not really interested in second-best in this house.
At the other end of the scale there are of course the non-bragging round-robins, dripping in repossessions, separations, surgery and irritable bowels.
With bills, taxes, debts, mortgages, property tax, water charges, and society bullying us into Yuletide over-spending, can we afford to send cards with international stamps costing a euro each? Spend less on presents. Send a few cards – spread the goodwill and cheer, and keep friendships alive.
My Kenya Build charity cards (with hand-written individual messages) are winging their way around the world, and at Christmas a colourful collection will be dancing on strings around my sitting room. Gosh I hope I’ve remembered to remind everyone of how fabulous I am.
