NOTE: I've done these Blast From The Past posts before, digging something out of the archives from when I was younger. This one is unique though, but I hesitate to explain why.
I wrote this when I 20 years old. It ran in my college newspaper. I mention someone named Leslie in this, and without going into full spill-my-guts mode, I'll just say breifly that yes, Leslie was my girfriend at the time. She holds a special place in my heart, perhaps because she is no longer with us. We did not stay together at that time, but we reconnected a few other times in our lives, and we very nearly stayed together when we were in our 40s. We didn't though... and in 2018 she was murdered by her ex husband. This is a true story. I'm not trying to be overly dramatic. I've always wished I could find the right way to keep her memory alive, and now maybe this piece is the way. We were young and having fun.
And maybe, just maybe, this piece is a tiny bit relevant today (or always).
MAY GREETING
The Christmas card was small. On the cover was a delicately colored drawing of a girl and a squirrel sitting next to each other, looking out over a peaceful, serene landscape.
Above the picture were the words:
...And on Earth,
Peace, good will toward men.
I opened the card and read:
May the joy
And peace of Christmas
Be with you today
And always
There was no other writing on the card and no name inscribed, and I could not remember if someone had sent it to me, or if I had bought it, intending to send it to someone, and then forgot to.
At any rate, it was the perfect thing to send to a girl I know named Leslie. We have a game going of sending inappropriate cards on random occasions. Sending her a Christmas card in the middle of May was hardly odd compared to her sending me an anniversary card (for no reason, I assure you) a few days earlier.
I had a bit to say on the card, and to sort out my thoughts I went for a walk along the Bainbridge Island beach.
I was considering the eternal pertinence of the card's message when, in a tree up from the beach, I heard a chirping, then a squawking and fluttering of wings, and saw a blue jay streak out from the tree, chased closely by a robin. A few leaves were dislodged and fluttered to the ground, and I noticed a nest, presumably the robins, which had been damaged slightly, presumably by the jay.
I jumped slightly as a gun boomed and echoed off Puget Sound. I turned to see a naval ship with a cloud of smoke rising calmly, like a puff from a cigarette, from one of its guns. The ship was rehearsing for war, and now sat calmly, like a sophisticated bachelor, smoking.
The squawking returned as the blue jay made another attack on the robin's nest, but was driven off before causing much additional harm.
When the ship's gun boomed a second time, I high-tailed it for the door, realizing that both the birds and the naval ship had scored a direct hit, right at the center of the card's message:
...And on Earth,
Peace, good will toward men.
--------------------------------------
May the joy
And peace of Christmas
Be with you
Today and always.
They now seemed like hollow words in the middle of May. Peace, good will, and joy had become memories as distant as Christmas itself.
I sent the card to Leslie anyway, keeping up the spirit of our game, and trustng that at least she, if no one else, would heed its message.
Peter Wick
October 14, 2026
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