‘Who is this from, then?’ asked the Resident IT Consultant, holding out the envelope that clearly contained a Christmas card. The first this year.
And I did recognise the handwriting, so told him. Also pointed out that in this case he could have opened it and showed me the front of the Christmas card, and I could still have told him who sent it.
This is a lady who has sent us cards for 30 years, and it is always a lovely snow scene in the middle of a traditional English village, near the church, with a group of choristers singing away in full view of the village Christmas tree.
You get new versions of this in the shops all the time; they look the same while being slightly different. And I have to say, it’s good when someone knows their own mind, and these cards are always appreciated, because they sort of embody Christmas in a rather charming way. It’s become a tradition.
I say always, but I lie. One year it was a steam train pulling into a snow-covered old-style railway station. It was lovely, in a different way.
I believe she had been unwell, and her [now late] husband was allowed to do the Christmas cards.
The following year the choristers were back.