In recent days the mailman has been bringing something besides bills, requests for contributions by charities and politicians and ads for hearing aids, cremation services and extended car warranties. Yes, the mailbox is now seeing Christmas cards.

With the advent of email and the increasing cost of postage the volume of Christmas cards being mailed each year is diminishing.

It all began in England in the 1840s. Historical records indicate the first commercial Christmas card was designed and created by a pair of Englishmen. New printing technologies made the creation of Christmas cards more practical and the 1840 introduction of England’s “Penny Post” — one cent postage stamp — made the mailing affordable.

The custom of sending Christmas cards caught on here in the United States by the 1880s.

Incidentally, in 1915 the Hall Brothers had taken advantage of new printing technologies and created folded cards with envelopes with more space for personal messages. This helped solidify the Christmas card tradition in American culture. The Hall Brothers, by the way, were the guys who founded the Hallmark greeting card giant.

By the middle of the 20th century Americans were sending personalized Christmas cards featuring family photographs. My mother traditionally sent printed cards from boxed sets purchased at the local dime store.

In 1955 she ordered personalized cards with a photograph of her then-trio of ornery sons — ages 7, 4 and 2 — posing in the backyard in what appears to be Sunday school attire. I am not an avid collector of family mementos but a copy of that card is among my treasured family keepsakes.

For the first few years of our marriage, my wife mailed out printed Christmas cards. When our son came along, however, I was inspired to create something more personalized.

Accordingly, in late November 1973 I took a photo of our then one-year-old son and used the camera’s timer to shoot a photo of our little family. Then I wrote a summary of the past year, had it set in type and printed as a likeness of a one-page newspaper that included a Christmas greeting.

The next year we had moved to the Sioux City area with much more to report so I repeated the process and continued to do so year after year.

I enjoyed including photos of our children who grumped every November when they had to pose for the annual Christmas newsletter photographs. I remember shooting a series of photos outside their elementary school on a cold but sunny Saturday. I am a photography snob and they tired of my directions to pose and smile just right.

The Christmas newsletter of 2013 bore the sad news of my Cindy’s passing. I remember the extra time and emotional strength it took to write that message.

When I married Julie I picked up the tradition for a few years but I was beginning to run out of ideas. As retired folks, our lives had become more routine and each year’s newsletter was essentially a repeat of the previous year’s.

Nonetheless, each year I was fueled to create another by kind words from friends and relatives who enjoyed the updates. We had dozens of uncles and aunts who claimed to enjoy the photos of our children, even though the kids were approaching middle age by now.

Our newsletter tradition continued until about five years ago.

By then, many of the folks with whom we had exchanged Christmas cards over the years had ended the tradition. This helped me feel a little less guilty the first year I did not send out a Christmas newsletter.

I must admit I enjoy reading the cards and newsletters I do receive each Christmas though the number is diminishing.

These days going through the mail is made a bit more enjoyable by the folks who continue to send Christmas cards and letters. Those cards and letters are preferred more than the bills, requests for contributions by charities and politicians and ads for hearing aids, cremation services and extended car warranties.

A word of wisdom as we approach Christmas: Don’t get your tinsel in a tangle.

Arvid Huisaman can be contacted at huismaniowa@gmail.com. ©2025 by Huisman Communications.