This blog post was written by graduate assistant Yeshi Lhamo, a master’s student at Truett Seminary.
There’s something about December that turns even the quietest corners of the world into places of wonder. Lights go up, mailboxes fill, and suddenly the simplest things – a handwritten card, a stamp from far away – feels magical. So, as Christmas approached this year, I found myself deep in the BCPM at Poage archives, surrounded not by tinsel or ornaments, but by something just as delightful: a stack of Christmas cards sent to Representative W. R. Poage from across the globe. Korea, Tibet, Japan, Europe—you name it. It was like opening a time-traveling Christmas mailbox, each envelope carrying a burst of cultural sparkle from the 1970s. And honestly, what better way to celebrate the season than by discovering how one Texas Congressman ended up with holiday cheer from across the world?
Every year around Christmas, Rep. Poage’s Congressional office was transformed by international cheer. Cards arrived in vertical Korean script, swirling Tibetan letters, delicate Japanese prints, European embossing, and handwritten notes from as far away as Australia.[1] By the time the holiday season peaked, Rep. Poage had received greetings from more than several nations—each unique, each a window into a different culture, and each addressed to a man from Waco, Texas.
Figure 1. Christmas greeting card from Y. S. Kim, the Chairman of the Korean Wheat-Rice Industrial Association, 1971
That raises the obvious question: How in the world did Rep. Poage get Christmas cards from so many corners of the planet? Rep. Poage wasn’t the loudest man in Congress, but he was exceptionally good at something the world has too often neglected: building genuine, respectful, lasting relationships.
His work in agriculture—an industry that influences trade, diplomacy, development, and worldwide food security—made him a key figure for American farmers and international partners.[2] People remembered him not for his demands but for his listening. That’s why cards came from far and wide. They weren’t just seasonal gestures—they were small diplomatic echoes of Rep. Poage’s reputation.
In today’s world of instant messages and digital greetings, it’s easy to forget the role holiday cards once played in global relationships. In the Cold War era, sending a card wasn’t an insignificant act; it was a statement of goodwill. A Christmas card might serve as an invitation to foster friendship, an acknowledgment of collaboration, a gentle diplomatic gesture, a means to commemorate a year of collective effort, or a warm reminder that bridges are more significant than boundaries. So, when Rep. Poage opened cards from Korea, Japan, Europe, and beyond, he wasn’t just receiving pretty stationery. He was receiving evidence of trust. Some cards came from the presidents of international companies to maintain good trade relations.[3] Others arrived from cultural offices and diplomatic missions, sending wishes for peace and partnership. The designs themselves told stories: embossed seals, gold ink, regional artwork, hand-penned signatures, or greetings printed in scripts unfamiliar to most at the time.
This wasn’t ordinary mail. It was global communication wrapped in holiday glitter. There’s something deeply charming—and surprisingly instructive—about this collection. It reminds us that politics hasn’t always been purely transactional or sharp-edged. There was a time when handwritten cards and sincere well-wishes crossed borders even when governments didn’t agree on everything.
Figure 2. Christmas greeting card from Dr. The Hon. Sir Seewoosagur, The Prime Minister of Mauritius, and the Lady Ramgoolam, 1971
Rep. Poage’s Christmas cards highlight the human side of global politics, relationship-building, kindness in diplomacy, and cultural diversity in holiday traditions. They make us wonder what we might recover if we returned, even a little, to those slower, more intentional forms of connection.
Figure 3. Adelaide From Montefiore Hill, Christmas greeting card from Michael J. Long, Minister (Commercial), 1972
These cards are fun to admire—and even more fascinating to study. Each one carries a story:
Why was it sent?
Who designed it?
What relationship does it reflect?
What global event might it be quietly connected to?
Rep. Poage’s Christmas mail invites anyone curious about history, diplomacy, or global culture to take a closer look. Because sometimes the most revealing artifacts aren’t speeches or bills or big headlines. Sometimes they’re holiday cards—small, ordinary objects that quietly carry evidence of extraordinary relationships. And Rep. Poage, in his steady, unassuming way, built more of those relationships than most.
Figure 4. Christmas greeting card from Mr. Takeshi Yasukawa, Ambassador of Japan, 1973
[1] W. R. “Bob” Poage Congressional papers, #BCPM.1B, Box 42-43, Baylor Collections of Political Materials, W. R. Poage Legislative Library, Baylor University.
[2] W. R. “Bob” Poage Congressional papers, #BCPM.1B, Box 43, Folder 2, Baylor Collections of Political Materials, W. R. Poage Legislative Library, Baylor University.
[3] W. R. “Bob” Poage Congressional papers, #BCPM.1B, Box 42, Folder 3, Baylor Collections of Political Materials, W. R. Poage Legislative Library, Baylor University.