Blog

We have an archaic habit of sending out Christmas cards via snail mail. We don’t buy the cards in a store; for some 22 years now we’ve had them printed with one of my paintings as the image. This year’s model: "And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. “ Watch A Charlie Brown Christmas if you want to learn a bit more.

We also include a somewhat non-traditional letter with the cards. In the early days I tried to just make them funny, not always successfully. In more recent years they’ve become somewhat more of a who knows? As in who knows what the heck he’s going to write about this time. Here’s this year's letter:  

We’ve been sending out our personal Christmas cards for something like two decades now. It’s becoming harder to come up with subject matter for the card illustration, and we are in danger of repeating ourselves. Seems like we’ve done it all – Advent candles, shepherds, angels, holiday trees, wreathes, our pets in funny Christmas hats or under the tree, Santas, Scrooge, reindeer; once Anthony even painted a rock formation we saw near Banff because it reminded Crystal of the holy family being followed by the wise men. (Note, being the kind of sticklers who drive other folks crazy, we usually try to avoid the wise guys as they are more of an Epiphany theme. We even cheated on the Advent candles card by “lighting” the middle candle). This year when Anthony asked Crystal for a suggestion she said “I don’t know, you’re the artist.”

Our system is that Anthony paints the picture based on which Crystal picks the text for the inside of the card. It’s usually from a hymn. The year that Anthony painted a reindeer, for example, Crystal did some research and learned that in the native cultures where reindeer reside they are associated with wisdom. That card’s message became “O come, O wisdom from on high” from O Come O Come Emmanuel. Betcha didn’t know that our Christmas Cards contained Easter Eggs, did you?

So. About this year’s card. There used to be unwritten rules regarding the depiction of any deity. In newspaper (remember them?) comic strips (remember them?) cartoonists were forbidden by their syndicate bosses from illustrating God in any fashion. Now they can cheerfully draw a bearded old cartoony guy with optional halo and it doesn’t matter how well or poorly they do so. Church nativity pageants used to rely on a light bulb in a wooden box to depict the Holy Infant in his manger. Nowadays, new parents compete for the honor of loaning their actual human baby to be held by the nervous, possibly terrified, 12-year old girl chosen to play Mary. 

Inspired by this new-found freedom, our card this year depicts the former light bulb, the reason for the season, the King of all Kings himself, all wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in his manger. The model was unable to sign a release allowing our use of her image because she’d only hit the atmosphere moments before the photograph used as Anthony’s source material was taken. She is young AnneMarie, our newest grand-niece, and we’re looking forward to meeting her.

This message inside the card this year was not cribbed (or should we say “mangered?”) from a hymn. It is from a song called The Cry of a Tiny Babe by Bruce Cockburn. Crystal was slightly hesitant about suggesting this because the lyrics are copyrighted. But we promised ourselves that we wouldn’t attempt to make any money from our weird and hopefully quaint tradition of unique annual Christmas cards, so we should be safe from greedy and vengeful recording company lawyers. I doubt that Mr. Cockburn himself will be particularly concerned.

Like a stone on the surface of a still river

Driving the ripples on forever

Redemption rips through the surface of time

in the cry of a tiny babe

Speaking of redemption ripping through the surface of time, AnneMarie, who goes by Annie, was born just a few months short of 100 years after Crystal’s mother Georgia. They probably will never meet. But their births coming essentially a century apart tie them together in ways completely distinct from the lines on family trees. When Crystal and I visited Mesa Verde National Park decades ago, a Navaho tour guide spoke of the seven generations connecting all persons. These span all whom we may know and love from great grandparents to great grandchildren. The circle of life and all that. 

It might be hard for Georgia now to focus on this continuity. She’s lived through a depression, a world war, several other conflicts, the advents of the jet and space ages, Elvis, the Beatles, the Kennedy assassinations, the Civil Rights movement, Watergate, Star Wars, computers, people with green and purple hair, 9-11, Lady Gaga, iPhones, electric cars, and more. And the thing of it is, we can’t tell you with any certainty whether she feels a particular connection to any of it. Her heart has always aimed itself towards her family, church, and Dutch/Friesian heritage. An amazing focus actually. So at 99 years and counting, it’s okay if she doesn’t retain room in her memory banks for the news that Anthony’s brother’s daughter recently had a baby on the other side of the country. The continuity is there nonetheless.

We can report, however, that she voted very deliberately in November in hopes of giving herself the best possible birthday present: the inauguration of America’s first female president on her actual 100^th birthday. Oh well, one can speculate that if she lives to reach 104, there may be opportunity for her to try again.

Assuming she makes it to her 100^th birthday on January 20, Georgia will have been on earth for 36,525 days (the extra 25 days constitute the leap years). We will have a celebration, of course, although it will be simpler than the ones held for her in the past. After two or at most three hours of any activity, she’s ready for a nap. And after 36,525 days she certainly deserves it.

And now, we ask you to put aside this letter and go find people important to you. Give them big hugs. Do it for their great-grandparents and their great grandchildren. It’s one way we too can help redemption rip through the surface of time, if only for a second or two. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Merry Christmas.

Peace be with you.

Crystal and Anthony.