Nowadays, we see Christmas cards with jolly Santa’s, merry Christmas scenes, and some nativity scenes. It was not always so. The first Christmas card was produced in 1843. This was the Victorian era, and as with many other things, the Victorians did Christmas cards very differently than those of our generations. The Victorian era saw murderous mice, Santa kidnapping children, and blood-thirsty snowmen’s Nick was often teamed with the devil to decide if children were good or naughty. The naughty were whisked away by the devil. Charming!
Christmas cards became something more people could enjoy in England, with the passing of the Penny Post law, which allowed anyone to send letters or cards for just one penny. In 1870 that amount was cut to half a penny. This, of course, enabled an even greater amount of the population to begin to send cards. The 1860s saw the first mass-producing. Louis Prang, a German immigrant, had a Boston lithography business and was instrumental in popularizing the cards in the US. I came across a card from the late 1800s sent to a great aunt from a great grandmother. It was smaller than today’s cards, frillier, and more delicate—a beautiful keepsake.
As I was growing up, Christmas cards were as much a part of Christmas as the tree. I have memories of my mother sitting at the dining room table, writing out personal letters to each person. This was before affordable long-distance calls, and of course, no texts or Facebook. Often people didn’t know what had happened in your life for the last year, and you did not know their story. So you exchanged newsy accounts which you knew the other person would be interested in. My mother penned each individually, and sometime in the seventies, I saw her move to a typewriter. Always there was “The List,” which listed family and friends receiving cards. There were two checkmarks eventually. One for the card sent and one for a card received.
I recall seeing over 100 names. Indeed a prodigious task along with all the other Christmas duties. When it was my turn to write Christmas cards, I did like my mother, only I wrote mine and did not type. I sat with my list at my dining room table. I didn’t stoop to the form letter for many years. Why did we send cards? It was enjoyable getting replies back and getting insight into the other person’s life. I loved the cards themselves with their varieties of Christmas scenes and topics. I would string red yarn down my banister and hang cards. The fireplace mantel was lined; in fact, any flat object other than the table was eventually covered in cards. Good wishes from family and friends surrounded us, and it was lovely.
As the years went on, more and more people were sending the form letters. I did that for a few years also. I eventually thought it was impersonal, and you were basically saying you had no time to write to this individual, that you were fitting them in to tell your story. I began to see that card letters were very diverse. Some people were sincere. They told you little Martha had not passed 4th grade, and everyone was sick for two weeks with the flu. I enjoyed those letters for their honesty and accurate insight into their lives. I tried to be equally honest. There were other types of letters. All the children were perfect in these letters and had stellar marks, and athletic endeavors were stunning. The parents were constantly taking on challenging tasks and being stupendously successful. It seemed no sickness, mistake or wrongdoing blemished their lives. One became deeply suspicious. I had voiced this distrust to a friend who lived nearby (and shall remain nameless). She agreed she had one relative who fell into the perfect category also. At that point, we decided to meet after Christmas and compare our “ perfect” letters and declare a winner of the one possessing the most outrageous and conceited missal. We had a lot of good laughs over this competition, and if you can believe it, my relative won each year. It was a very close call, though, I will admit.
Fast forward to today, and I am one of the few still sending Christmas cards. Yes, I can keep in closer touch, and most know what’s going on in my life anyway. Some do not know what happened in my past year, and I include a written letter. Otherwise, I just sent the card. I am down to 20 people who feel as I do. They love getting the cards and displaying them in their homes to remind their loving friends and family. I send cards to my children even though we are in constant contact and will be getting gifts from me. They love their cards because no one sends anymore in their generation, and mine is usually their only card. I am sent pictures of my card displayed on their mantel or china cabinet, with children examining and enjoying it. I still send to lifelong friends in California, Edmonton, Alberta, and Victoria, B.C. I have known them since pre-kindergarten, and we always exchange Christmas and birthday cards. They are part of my Christmas. Once upon a time, we went to church together on Christmas Eve and participated in the school Christmas concert and the church’s nativity play. They are dear reminders of the magic of Christmas in those days and our warm friendships that have spanned all these years.
I will buy some cards very soon and get them written out. Postage now is $1.50 to go to Canada, but who cares. This is Christmas; this is a tradition, in my opinion, one that is well worth continuing!
