Okay folks, this story has nothing to do with business, or spirituality, or faith or Christianity, or any of that. So if you came here today looking for spiritual edification, time to click back over to the Chuck Swindoll or the High Calling site. But, this post is about Christmas! So that might interest you, right? It’ s only a few days away! This is just pure creative writing fun – and maybe you can even relate to it! From me, to you, Merry Christmas! Brad
Each year as Christmas approaches we get a number of Christmas Holiday letters from friends and family. Of course we enjoy reading them, but there is an alarming trend of generic-style family newsletters dramatically on the rise. These impersonal summaries of the mundane accomplishments of the children, grandchildren and pets are now a firmly established tradition, especially among the churched. I don’t know who started it, or why it has caught on so fast, or why these people think the world will be so interested in their lives, but I would wager the generic Christmas Newsletter is here to stay.
In my tribe, there’s one particular family that truly outshines all the other newsletters each and every year — in a bad way. This particular writer pushes the limits, goes over the top, above and beyond your most distasteful imagination. If there were a contest in Parade Magazine for the most obnoxious Christmas Letter in America, this family would be certain to win, hands down. Each year as we anticipate the arrival of the “letter” in question, we assure ourselves that there is simply no possibility of them outdoing their previous atrocity, or that surely this season some level of awareness would dawn on the unwitting writers regarding their poor taste and blatant elitism. Or, we hope that perhaps a gentle but firm suggestion has made its way from some close kin, advising them to tone it down a bit. But, alas, each Christmas season appears a newsletter more vile, more self-promoting and one-upping than the year before.
The saddest part about it is that we know their lives are not as great as their letter makes it appear. Everybody knows. We know about their struggles, the days-at-a-time without getting out of bed depression, the social isolation, and the marital strain. So what? Each of us has our own set of unpleasantries to deal with. Why go so far out of your way to pretend? I can barely imagine what kind of effort it must take them to build a façade of perfection for the outside world to see. Instead of the truth, we read a ravishing story of success, glamour, travel, and accomplishment, replete with photos, and many, many references to career advancements and their child’s outstanding achievements. And I want to hurl.
Each December, without fail, the letter arrives and we go through the same machinations as the last. It sits on the kitchen table unopened, untouched for a few days. We eye the letter from a safe distance, circling and poking at the repulsive envelope as if it were a bloody, mutilated animal the dog drug in from the woods. Speaking in hushed tones, we swear that it’s going in the trash, any minute. But it doesn’t move. After a couple days we then soften up our tone, becoming more convivial and friendly towards That Letter, and we convince ourselves that the writers have repented, that this year is the year they have truly embraced the Christmas spirit with newfound humility and thanksgiving. Perhaps we should give them a chance? The letter sits there and mocks our indecision. Like passengers who can not resist gawking at a drive-by car accident, we ultimately give in to our morbid curiosity, daring to open the envelope and read it, even though it will probably make us sick and bitter.
It never disappoints.
To be continued in Part 2…
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In