I thought about not sending Christmas cards this year, for the first time ever. What could I say about the past 12 months of my life that wouldn’t be horribly depressing or insincerely cheerful?
But the thing is, I love to get Christmas cards. I love to read them, I love to string them up together and hang them where I can see the happy faces of people I know and love from so many different eras of my life. It brings me joy–yes, even this year–to know that someone thought enough of me to put a card in the mail. And it brings me joy to send cards too, and to take a few minutes to think about the recipient and what they mean to me.
We’re not doing everything we usually do at Christmas. I just can’t.
But this I am glad to do.