Christmas Cards - Bah Humbug?

As I rushed through writing my last few Christmas cards I thought yet again of how I must buy myself a new address book. I have three or four but one mainstay: the oldest one. It is full of crossings out and a real mess. I also thought, "Why do I send some of these cards? I haven’t seen these people for years and am unlikely (probably) ever to do so again. I am not sure I even have much of a feeling for this person, one way or another. These are simply obligatory cards, sent because they sent one to me, a tennis ball habit that goes on year after year because I don’t want to offend or upset."

As you can see my mood was neither generous nor seasonal. Here was a chore which I was trying to get through in order to move onto the next thing on my "Christmas to-do list."

Then I had an epiphany (yes, I know it is a bit early, but you know what I mean.) I suddenly realised that my mood wasn’t quite as "bah humbug" as it seemed superficially. I realised that as I moved through my address book and as I wrote or decided not to write each card, I was visiting each person in my head and in my heart. I was also visiting my own history. Here is my Godfather, crossed out because he has died but his second wife, who I didn’t know very well, is still alive and frail and so I send a card to show I remember her and him. Here is my first great love (I was thirteen) who now has advanced Parkinson’s disease. Here is one of my oldest friends who will have the joy of Christmas with her first grandchild, Charlie, this year. Here is someone who although I don’t see now, I once enjoyed such fun with when we both trod the boards as amateur actors in our teens. Here in my old address book is sadness and loss, life emerging and happy memories. My mood was mirroring where each person I thought of was in their lives now or how I felt about that part of my history. How much unfinished business lies there?

Many of us complain about the writing of Christmas cards. But it is the one exercise in the year when we have an opportunity really to look back, to remember and to think about others. And it offers itself as the most amazing opportunity for prayer. As I write each card I can hold in my head those I love and those I don’t know so well, and I can begin, perhaps, to ask God to help me to look at the bits of my history, those old wounds, that still need his healing touch.

Even if I buy a new address book, I now know I shall keep my old one.

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