This Christmas Eve, I find myself struggling to feel the Christmas spirit. I have the next week off from work (mostly). The tree is up and decorated with happy lights. We’ve delivered gifts to friends and family. Hannah and I have a loose plan for tasty treats and Christmas meals. There are Christmas movies to watch and a new Charlie Harper puzzle waiting to be assembled. Yet, I feel a bit hollow inside.
This first Christmas without Mom weighs heavy on all of us. There is no trading of recipes to experiment with for the season. No “As Seen on TV” gifts from her beneath the tree. No anticipation of her reaction to the gifts I chose for her. Even though we rarely spent Christmas together, something is missing this year.
As I look back to childhood Christmases, Mom set the stage. When we were allowed downstairs, the scent of breakfast casserole and pecan coffee cake baking, the tree lights and candles aglow, and Christmas music filled the house with Christmas cheer. Regardless of what was happening in the world, who was with us that year, or what was under the tree, Mom made the season’s joy come true. And now I try to do that for my family.
For the past 12 years, I’ve shared Christmas greetings with a linoleum block print poster created by my great-great aunt, Elizabeth Stroble. She was an artist and a school teacher in St.Paul, Minnesota. While I have more collected poster designs, this year, I share a Christmas card Elizabeth sent to my grandparents in 1938, the year before my mother was born.
In September, I found this card in an old box of letters and envelopes while helping Dad put his study back together after a basement flood. My maternal grandfather was a stamp collector; I suspect this box was likely his.
It’s a wonder that the card arrived when simply addressed to The Rev. and Mrs. John Reynolds Bender, Middlepoint, Ohio—no street address or zip code (which didn’t become a “thing” until the 1960s).
The return address on the envelope’s back is a linoleum block print – a modern-looking Santa Claus riding a reindeer.
The card inside appears to be a pen and ink drawing of caroling children – or it may have been a black linoleum print with the color added in by hand. The card reads:
The wideness of the Spirit that pervades the atmosphere
fills all the distant places with a universal Cheer. The stars
flare out their message that all the world’s attune as the
Carols of the Children Reach the Meadows of the Moon.
It is a gift to have found this card created with such love from a Christmas eighty-five years ago.
I wish you and your family the gift of peace, health, and happiness this Christmas.
View past Christmas messages and Elizabeth’s linoleum block prints.
- 24 Dec 2022
- 24 Dec 2021
- 24 Dec 2020 – the history about and images of Elizabeth
- 24 Dec 2019
- 24 Dec 2017
- 24 Dec 2016
- 24 Dec 2015
- 24 Dec 2014
- 24 Dec 2013
- 24 Dec 2012
- 24 Dec 2011
- 24 Dec 2010
I want to wish you and your family a very warm and Merry Christmas. I love your stories about your land and animals and crafts. I live in upstate NY & got hit with the same storm. Luckily we didn’t lose power but it is still very cold here…..15*. Thank you so much for all of your animal patterns. Enjoy your family. From a grateful fan, Nancy DeGennaro
Oh dear .. no electricity. At least you have a generator! Good luck with your cooking dinner. Same happened here about six years ago. No electricity for five days starting Christmas Eve. Like you we are on well water so the pump wasn’t working. No showers no flushing the loo!! That’s when we decided to get a generator ….
Despite your electricity problems I wish you and yours a Happy Christmas. Bon courage!