Christmas 2025: Why Online Greetings Still Endure Among Forum Users

Christmas Greetings 2025: The Ritual That Refuses to Die

The paper Christmas card is dead. The exchange of greetings among strangers, however, is not. The ritual that once required stamps, envelopes, and an address list has been reborn as a game as simple as it is addictive: take an image, dedicate it to someone by their digital name, and wish them well. In 2025, it marked another year with one rule that says it all – "one greeting per post, for order’s sake" – and an unwritten code: good taste and good vibes.

The mechanism is almost archaeological. Whoever starts the round dedicates the first image and passes the turn; the recipient replies, congratulates in turn, or skips. No one is forced. The only rule respected is courtesy, and the result is less like a postcard and more like a conversation that doesn't want to end. The old word crismas, long thought extinct, reappeared without hesitation.

From Byzantine Frescoes to Gladiators: What's Being Shared and How

The chosen images serve as mini-lessons in erudition. The first of the season traveled to the ancient Byzantine city of **Nicaea**: a fresco of the Good Shepherd found in a hypogeum and shared by a blog specializing in history. Another participant opted for proximity, posting a Pantocrator from the **church of San Justo in Segovia**, a stone's throw from the aqueduct, with a note for viewers: the thumbnail doesn't do it justice, and seeing it in person is quite imposing. Cultural recommendations accompany the Christmas wishes.

The calendar also sneaks into the game. Some recalled the Roman **Saturnalia**, noting their continued echo in contemporary reenactments, such as those held in the English city of **Chester**, alongside segarro nods to gladiator fights. This detail links contemporary greetings with a ritual from two millennia ago, giving the round a sense of historical continuity that no commercial postcard can offer.

Ready-Made Meals and Anger at the Hospitality Industry

No round of good wishes lasts long without a tangent. The conversation shifted from frescoes to food, and from there to frustration. The criticism was stark: charging home-cooked prices for supermarket hummus or frozen croquettes is a rip-off. The most repeated verdict summarized the indignation: "Ready-made meals are like the AI of gastronomy." Another participant, with more dry wit than fury, asked for at least transparency about the origin and preparation of what's served in establishments.

The economic corollary is logical. If restaurant food has become an industrially resold product, the price premium paid for it is pure marketing. Nothing new under the sun, but repeated every time someone pays **thirty euros for a taxi** – the specific case cited – to go to a real place instead of settling for the postcard-style menus.

When Greetings Intersect with Grief

There were turns for everything, and not all of them festive. Two messages shared something that Christmas amplifies: the death of a pet. A French bulldog **eight years old**; another dog, **ten and a half years old**, lost to aggressive cancer. The response was sober and sincere: "They are loved, cherished, and missed. A big hug." Amidst an exchange of happy images, remembering that anyone might be going through their worst December gives the gesture another dimension.

The game's mechanics allow for precisely that. The same space hosts jokes, condolences, and learned recommendations without clashing. This is its main advantage over the traditional format, where each card goes to a single recipient and allows no public response.

From Crismas to the Book Club

The most striking aspect is where the game has mutated. What started as digital postcards ended up as a reading list for 2026. Titles included **Anabasis**, the **Odyssey**, the **Bible**, and several Hispanic-American classics. The standout recommendation, mentioned several times, was The True History of the Conquest of New Spain by **Bernal Díaz del Castillo**.

The erudition didn't stop there. Problems and Marvelous Secrets of the Indies, published in **1591** by Juan de Cárdenas, also appeared, as an example of a lesser-known colonial chronicle. That a round of greetings ends discussing 16th-century sources says a lot about the participants' profile: people who don't need an explanation of what the Euribor is and seize any excuse to recommend a book.

The January Ritual: DIY Christmas and New Year's Resolutions

The activity didn't die on December 25th. The exchange extended into the new year, with "DIY Christmas" greetings, savings resolutions, nods to the community's general knowledge tournament, and a wish for 2026 to be "terribly uneventful, boring, and gray" – an elegant way of asking for nothing bad to happen. For those not having their best holidays, the gesture of dedicating an image has a value that no printed postcard can match.

One reasonable doubt remains. With this level of involvement, the format should have jumped to massive platforms. It remains a voluntary ghetto, somewhat chaotic, and without metrics. If it lasts another decade, it will be due to nostalgia; if it disappears, it will be because no one misses what never became mainstream.