I send Christmas cards. I send Valentines. I send birthday greetings via facebook. But I don't remember ever sending an Easter card. So consider it done. Today. Via this blog. And thanks to my husband's grandfather, who in 1917 sent this card to his Aunt Agnes:
This would be an Easter greeting blast from the past. After all, the true joy of Easter still holds strong almost a hundred years after this penny postcard was lovingly sent, so why not recycle to you.
This postcard fell into my hands, along with many, many more, because in the process of cleaning grandpa's house (I've mentioned that in previous blogs) we are also cleaning great-grandpa's house, the house that has not been touched for decades, the house where nothing (and I do mean nothing) was discarded through the ages. For days now, I have been existing in a time capsule. I've uncovered farmer's almanacs that have not seen the light of day since the early forties. I've held political letters begging for votes (and contributions) from pre-World War II candidates, and Viet Nam era candidates.
It's been rough being a history buff on a deadline. All I want to do is read, read, read. That is impossible, so instead I put things in the "Don't you dare throw that away" pile and dig into the next drawer.
I can't read the postmark date on this card, but I can read the sentiment behind the greeting to Agnes and the invitation to "Come up here for Easter." A hundred years of Easters have come and gone since Agnes reached in her mailbox on the side of that country road and pulled out this card from her nephew. I know she was as thrilled to find it as I was.
I hope your holy days are blessed.
Catch of the day,