Amy M. Schaefer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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A Dying Tradition

12/15/2015

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Christmas Card #1, Side 1 for 2015
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Christmas Card #1, Side 2 for 2015
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Christmas Card #2
I remember watching Aunt Mattie sit at our kitchen table and hand-write special notes on each Christmas card she sent every year. And when I moved away, I was added to her list. It was an exciting moment when I found the first card from her in my own mailbox and a special gift every year afterwards until the year I got her last card. One reason this was such a big deal was when Aunt Mattie was young, she got her hand caught in one of the sewing machines at work and it greatly damaged the entire hand. The bones were never set properly, so it didn't heal like it should. As she aged, arthritis set in and it was extremely painful for her to write, or use that hand at all. It also made her words very difficult to read. None of this deterred her from writing letters to friends and family who lived away, and writing out those Christmas cards every year. Anyone who really knew her understood that every stroke of every word was filled with "Mattie-love".  I never threw a single one away. Now that she's gone, I'm even happier I still have them all! Some might say, "It's just a card", but they would be mistaken. When each word causes great pain to pen on a page, if you are the lucky soul who has received such a gift, then you know part of the very essence of love.

In this crazy technology age we live in, a world of smart phones, email, etc., the handwritten Christmas card is a dying tradition. Aunt Mattie would be sad to see it go, and so am I. One thing I do enjoy about making my Christmas cards each year using technology is that I can go online and personalize them with photos that are not generic. I am very meticulous about the ones I choose, wanting them to tell the "right" visual story from our family to whomever I'm sending them to. I'm not a fan of the generic newsletter, but I always read them if they are included in the cards we receive. Mostly, what makes me happy about getting a Christmas card is this...someone took the time out of their busy lives to think of me. Maybe it was only for a moment or two, but even that is...beautiful. As I address labels for my cards this year, each name written on the envelope gives me pause as I think of things about those people that make me smile, memories of them that touch me. I lick the icky glue with enthusiasm because to me it's like sending everyone a noisy wet kiss, much like a baby would give your cheek when they're happy to see you. For me, it wouldn't be Christmas without this tradition, even as I watch it slowly fade away.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Love,
A.
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    About The Author

    I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery