The lost art of the thank-you card.
Less than a year after Tim and I were married, we flew down to Los Angeles for my cousin Scott’s post-wedding reception (hosted by the groom’s parents), my aunt and uncle.
Both families were significantly more well-to-do than my own (and Tim’s). As evidenced by the prime beach club location for the reception and the presence of caviar on the menu. Not in a hoity-toity way, of course. Just giving a bit of perspective.
Being newly-married ourselves, and “starving” students, we didn’t have much of a budget for wedding presents. So, naturally we didn’t splurge on their gift. It might have even been a regift. Maybe.
It was a strainer/colander. Practical but not exactly the most exhilarating item to unwrap. It was our humble offering to congratulate the couple on just starting out.
Within a month, I received the most gracious card from Scott’s wife Ashley, thanking us for coming and for the gift. She was kind and sincere in her thanks, despite having received a plentiful array of presents to delight.
Tim and I have attended numerous wedding receptions in the seventeen years that have passed since then. Being more established financially, our gifts have far exceeded that one in class (and price). None have generated the classy thanks of that particular card.
In fact, if I were to venture a guess at the percentage of thank-you cards we’ve received for the gifts we’ve given, I’d say it was just under 50%. Surprising, if you ask me.
You see, shortly after getting married myself, my top priority was to whip out cards to show gratitude for the many loved ones and friends who celebrated with us and sacrificed to give us a gift. It took months.
I curled up on the couch as often as time would permit between school and work, and pen a thoughtful, personal note to each gift-giver. My goal was to ensure that each person knew I remembered them and the specific gift they had chosen.
I even checked in with Tim when a name on the list didn’t ring a bell so he could help me put a name to a face.
Writing those thank-you cards was such a satisfying experience.
First, it reminded me of how many people took time out of their schedules to join in this happiest of occasion. In a way, I could almost relive the joy of visiting with them as I took the time to thank them personally. It was like a double-dose of happiness. Gratitude does that.
Second, I’d like to think that it brought a smile to their faces to know that their sacrifice was not lost on me. From my mission president and his dear wife who drove several hours to attend our sealing, to my old Texas friends who made a road trip from San Francisco to be there.
From my sweet aunt whose husband had recently passed who came all the way from Chicago to the members of Tim’s family who also flew out from the Midwest to show their support.
It meant a lot to me. I wanted them to know that. I think they did.
And third, I simply think that sending thank-you cards is a classy thing to do. When Ashley sent me a thank-you card for that silly strainer, I almost laughed out loud. But it said a lot about her. She’s a class act.
Not only does gratitude demonstrate our level of graciousness, it multiplies the joy of all involved in those expressions of gratitude, from giver to receiver.
I spent three years as president of the Young Women organization at church (and as a teacher of the 16-18 year-olds for two years before that.
When each young woman graduated from high school and moved on to the women’s organization at church, I gave each of them a gift, along with a card to express my love for them and the joy that it was to be their leader. I tried my darnedest to make it personal, so they knew that I loved each of them individually.
I received many thank-you cards for those gifts. Some made me cry.
One year as I wrote a card to one of these graduating young women, I had a hard time finding the words to express how I felt about her. To be sure, she was blessed with an abundance of talents and gifts, which I could easily enumerate. But she lacked warmth, and so I found it hard to muster the exuberant expressions of praise/love that came so easily when addressing other young women.
I silently prayed that I could do her justice in the card I wrote and was filled with an overwhelming feeling of love for her. My pen took over and I filled the card to capacity with my heartfelt, genuine identification of the incredible person I think she is.
Sure enough, when I received a thank-you card from her fairly promptly thereafter(she had been taught by her parents to do so), I opened it and stopped dead in my tracks. She had given a cursory thanks for the graduation gift. And that was it.
No acknowledgement of the tender words in the card I had given her.
No mention of the hours (and hours) I had expended on her behalf as Young Women President.
It was SUCH a letdown.
Do I love her any less? Of course not. Do I regret having composed such a genuine show of love to her? Not a bit. I hope it had positive effects on her despite no indication of it on her end.
However. There are three lessons in the story:
One, to express thanks is good.
Two, to feel gratitude is inspiring. It fills the soul.
Three, to express thanks with a heart full of gratitude blesses all parties involved.
As a mother, I hope to instill the habit of saying thank-you in my children. It goes far beyond verbal expressions of gratitude.
After Christmas, we break out a stack of cards and take turns writing thanks to those who sent us presents. Each child is encouraged to do the same after a birthday. When we arrive home from a trip during which friends hosted us for a meal or an overnight stay, we do the same.
It’s simply a habit now. Hopefully one that sticks. And even more importantly, a habit that generates a true sense of gratitude behind the expression of it.