Fewer friends send them every year, but I relish the envelopes that are a little thicker, the ones that promise news in addition to a beautiful photo of your clan

I enjoy your tales from far away, your moving sagas, your job transition stories, and especially hearing about your precious offspring and their myriad talents.  No really, I do.

But one letter wins, every year.  These friends of ours have four children, as quirky and individual as all kids should hope to be. Our friend has a true gift, as his letter paints an appealing picture of family life without once describing his children’s accomplishments.  There isn’t a hint that his kids might be smarter than mine (and they’re smart!) nor that they’ve achieved that coveted parenting status most of us can only dream of—raising a teenager whose uniform doesn’t consist of a hoodie and earbuds.

Instead, their letter includes a list of 12 sure-fire ways to embarrass your teenager and the confession that their 2^nd grader doesn’t know how to tie her own shoes.

How can you not love friends like this?

And yet, I don’t wait for their letter with anticipation simply because they share more than their successes.  I wait for its arrival, I wait for the day it fills my mailbox with its beauty, because they tell their story with significant grace and humor. Behind every word I read, every year, there is a palpable sense of love for their family. 

And that, my friends, makes for a lovely start to my Christmas season.

Let the letter writing begin!