Every year I hear at least one person lament the chore of having to send Christmas cards. They just don’t want to do it, but are pressed by a sense of social obligation. And it is a chore if your list of sendees is exceedingly long.
I remember as a kid the cards my parents would get at Christmas from people they knew. No, not acquaintances or that guy who works down the hall at the office whose name you can never be quite sure of, but from people they actually knew and wanted to know about.
Many of the cards were from dad’s old war buddies. These were special. There was always a note with just a little information about how the kids were doing. Sometimes there was a photo; often those tiny stamp-size school mug shots. Occasionally there was a letter. A real hand-written letter! On that smallish special letter stationery! My parents loved getting these cards and enjoyed reading the snippets of news. The letters were true treasures.
