by Samantha Perry
Scenes of winter landscapes, holly berries and jolly images of Santa framed our kitchen and living room doorframes some decades ago.
Soon after the Thanksgiving dinner was devoured, Christmas cards would begin arriving via old-fashioned delivery from the U.S. Postal Service.
At our house, we taped our cards around the doors going into the kitchen and den.
It may have been tacky, but we didn’t know any better.
We were a coal-mining family living in the heart of Appalachia. and there was no Martha Stewart to tell us any better.
Mom was a Christmas card connoisseur.
We didn’t waste money back in those days, but she took extra care in shopping around and picking out the best holiday greetings.
As a youngster I preferred the cards featuring St. Nick, but Mom seemed to enjoy the snow scenes that were reminiscent of our mountains and valleys.
When glitter became a trend, the tradition became extra special and extra messy. The cards were beautiful, but the shimmer and sparkle seemed to hang around on recesses of the kitchen table and floor until the Easter bunny arrived.
But that was the trend of not-too-distant decades past.
Faded ink on aging paper, tucked away in boxes and hidden in the dark recesses of closets and attics, tell a contrasting story to our modern society.
Cards and correspondence from the 1920s paint a very different portrait of America than the one we live in today. Rummaging through a box filled with memories left by a long-deceased ancestor, I came across a piece of mail from November of 1928.
“Oh! To live these happy hours again — gone — but far from forgotten …”
I wonder about the person, the place, the event that inspired these thoughts that were put to paper in an elegant hand with a penchant for cursive writing. Was it a special someone or a specific event that spurred the act of pen to paper?
Today our messages are much more succinct, with texts, tweets and emails dominating conversations.
“R y ready 2 go 2 the movie?”
Who needs correct grammar and spelling when communicating by smartphone? It’s all about the message, right?
I do wonder about the fate of the written language. Across the nation, some school systems are already phasing out cursive writing in favor of typing classes. While expertise on a keyboard is certainly vital in today’s age of technology, it’s sad to think there may come a day when children no longer know the art of a loopy “l” or lowercase “z.”
I miss the days when Mom and I sat side-by-side at the table preparing Christmas cards for family and friends.
Everyone would get a greeting — aunts, uncles, cousins and the newspaper carrier. The cards underscored the spirit of the holiday, but they also emphasized an appreciation for all the special people in our lives.
Pulling out the box of family memorabilia from its storage nook, I think about how different day-to-day life was back in the 1920s.
Christmas and Easter cards bear perfect penmanship and missives wishing good health and prosperity. Hand-written letters spread news of family fortunes, hopes and troubles.
Children wrote thank-you notes for Christmas gifts and other presents. Cousins kept in touch with older relatives in ill health. Friends authored letters filled with details of good days and bad.
Emotions and events were communicated with a flourish of the pen, and peppered with descriptive adjectives that inspired vivid imagery.
“Oh! To live these happy hours again — gone — but far from forgotten …”
I don’t know what event transpired to spur such positive thoughts and writings. But the message is marked with a heart pierced by an arrow, and signed with initials lovingly etched on timeworn parchment.
The author was obviously smiling when penning the letter 94 years ago.
Now, as I read it, I am smiling, too.
