May the peace of Christ fill your home,
the joy of His birth warm your heart,
and His love guide you into the coming year.
The Last Christmas Card
By J.K. Stenger
Every year, the card fell on her doormat.
She had no idea who sent it, but just before Christmas, there it would be again. And, every year, the same message was written on it: “You are not alone. Merry Christmas.”
The first time the card appeared on her doormat, years ago, she had felt a flash of irritation. Her husband had died and the idea that someone thought it necessary to remind her she was alone, felt almost cruel. But as she examined it, she realized it had been chosen with great care. It was special. Not one of those flashy, mass-produced cards you bought online in packs of twenty for a pittance, the kind that flooded mailboxes every holiday season. Those usually went straight into the wastepaper basket.
But this card… once she overcame her initial annoyance, it found its place on the mantelpiece. Every year, the same ritual took place. Somehow, the card radiated a quiet, comforting calm and that was something she longed for more than anything.
This year, the card showed a nativity scene; cows, sheep and a little donkey stood quietly in the background, while the manger with the Christ child was surrounded by smiling, everyday people. A businessman clutched an expensive briefcase, a ten-year-old boy held a soccer ball, a cleaning lady leaned on her broom. An older woman with silvery hair reached out to lift the newborn, while Mary and Joseph watched with gentle approval.
If only the world could look like that. But it didn’t. All the Christmas cheer seemed nothing more than a dream that would never come true. There was no peace on earth and in reality, those people would never stand together so gently and harmoniously.
The sender remained anonymous and hadn’t bothered to write their name on the card. At first, she wondered if it might be some kind of marketing stunt, but she dismissed the idea immediately. The card was far too beautiful for that. Any company seeking new customers would surely have printed its name in gold on the front. This card seemed to breathe tranquility, untouched by the flashy world of commercialism. It was not meant for the trash.
And so, the mystery remained. Once again, the card found its place on the mantelpiece and every time she passed it, she paused to look. It gave her a warm, quiet feeling. Someone was thinking of her, if only at Christmas.
After all, she didn’t have many friends and at Christmas, the few who might have counted were nowhere to be seen.
She couldn’t have cared less. Christmas had always been pleasant, with its sparkling lights and good food, but since losing her husband after his long illness, the joy had faded. At its heart, Christmas was a church holiday and she did not enjoy going to church. She and Albert had attended in the past. He liked it and on Christmas Eve, she indulged him. Beyond that, she stayed away, because God seemed of no use to her.
And so, Christmas became a dull affair. On the day itself she visited her brother in Maryland but on Boxing Day she stayed home, answering the door for no one. She watched television, ate nothing special, and occasionally glanced at the card on the mantelpiece.
“You are not alone. Merry Christmas.”
Funny, how a piece of cardboard with just a few words could shine so brightly, give her a sense of hope and remind her that someone, somewhere, cared.
If only she knew who sent it…
Then, between Christmas and New Year’s, another envelope appeared on her doorstep. This one was not a card but a handwritten letter. Her name was written on the envelope in trembling letters: Elara Thompson.
She turned the envelope over and when she saw the sender, her eyes widened. The letter was from her old neighbor; from the years she and her husband had lived in Tennessee. Margaret Collins… Elara had moved away soon after Albert died, and she had not thought of her in ten years.
So, she was still alive.
Carefully, she opened the envelope and drew out the letter.
Dear Elara,
You must be wondering why you are receiving a letter from me, your old neighbor in Tennessee. We never spoke again, but I have sent you a Christmas card every year…
Elara’s heart pounded. So it had been the old neighbor who had sent the cards. She read on, hardly daring to believe it.
Just before Albert died, he called me. He asked me to send you a card every Christmas, with just one sentence: You are not alone. He wanted you to know that his love does not end with this life. Something gentle remains with you. He also asked me to think of you, to whisper a prayer for you each Christmas. And I did. Every year, I quietly placed your name by the Child in the manger, because love never truly disappears.
A tear rolled from her eye and fell onto the letter she was holding with trembling hands. Suddenly, it felt as if Albert were standing beside her. For a fleeting, heavenly moment a blissful warmth filled her barren heart. But as she continued reading, the tears could no longer be held back.
I write to you now, because I am at the gate myself and I know I cannot send you another Christmas card. But I wanted to tell you one more thing, something Albert always knew: You are never alone.
With love and blessings,
Your old neighbor, Margaret
Something in Elara’s heart gave way.
That day she cried, to make up for all the years of silence. Between the tears, she realized she had never been alone; she had simply not understood. It was time to take a new path. In a few hours, the new year would begin and this time, it felt truly new.
She was not alone, and with that realization she felt ready to face the world.
_____