I have all kinds of reasons why I love the Christmas season, the most important of which is celebrating the birth of my Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ. But one of the things I anticipate with great delight is the arrival of yearly newsy letters from relatives and friends who only write once a year. Some don’t have email or computers and write lovely, long-hand letters filled with happenings. I have several friends who love to explore the world. Being in their sixties doesn’t stop them from climbing mountains, riding rapids, camping in Argentina or Peru, mountain biking with grandchildren. I can’t wait to read where they’ve been and what they’ve been up to over the last twelve months.
Not all my friends are in their sixties. My mother said, “If you only make friends your own age, someday you’ll end up with no friends at all.” This was at a time in her life where opening Christmas cards had become somewhat depressing because they carried news...