By Theresa novak | Posted: Sunday, November 26, 2006 12:00 am
I came across Internet temptation the other day: A Web site that offered free Internet Christmas cards that featured a crackling fire, twinkling-lights Christmas tree and snow falling outside the cozy yellow windows. There was even an "interactive, animated greeting."
Just imagine; I could send off holiday greetings with a click of the mouse to my entire e-mail list of friends and family and former colleagues.
No wondering if I'm sending people the same card I sent them last year. (I had some left over and they're spendy, OK?) No spending at least a week's worth of evenings writing greetings and catching people up on the big events (I can't stand writing those newsletters, although, frankly, I do enjoy getting the witty ones).
No trees harmed. No writer's cramp. No wondering what to do with all of the cards that I receive and am reluctant to place into the recycle bin.
Sure, some of the people who send cards are those I see throughout the year, or at least call from time to time. But others are in that special and valued group of people I wish I could see more; people who - at one time or another - were part of my daily circle of friends or co-workers or classmates or neighbors.
Now I look forward at Christmas to receiving a photograph from them; to noting that my best friend from sixth grade has more gray in her hair. But her smile and bright blue eyes are unchanged since that February afternoon we spent trudging through a freak blizzard trying to sell Girl Scout cookies. (To this day, I'm a soft touch for any Girl Scout trying to sell me a box of Thin Mints.)
Christmas cards - and the act of writing them, sending them, receiving them - are rituals that keep us connected to people from our past. They say, "I still remember; I still think of you. You still matter to me."
It doesn't actually matter what the cards look like. It doesn't matter if they have photos. The real thrill is the pleasure of seeing a tidy envelope, addressed to you, arrive at your door, bearing a familiar - yet rarely seen - name and return address. It's a very special Christmas present.
That's nothing that can be provided by an animated virtual holiday card via the Internet.
Writer's cramp? It's a small price to pay.
Theresa Novak is the opinion page editor of the Corvallis Gazette-Times. An audio version of this column is available under the "GT to go" podcast link at gazettetimes.com.