I have next to me a piece of nice paper, off-white, heavy stock. Penciled on it is a letter, which my three-year-old daughter recently dictated: 

Dear Santa,

Pretty please. 
—T

I recognize that Santa Claus carries some controversy with him in the sleigh, and I quite relate to parents who’d prefer he received less attention. But early on, a passage from G.K. Chesterton significantly influenced my wife and me on the matter. And hence, every December, we are paid a late-night visit by the jolly big fellow (Santa, not Chesterton). And hence, the above letter. To which I have made only minor edits (for instance, my three-year-old includes more F’s than you’d typically find in the word “otter,” but the transcription is mostly complete and verbatim).

You’ll notice a couple of things about it.

The first is that it is, as I mentioned, written on paper. High-quality paper that feels good in the hand. I suppose nowadays there are probably email addresses claiming instant delivery to the North Pole. Maybe a bunch of apps and websites. Perhaps good little boys’ and girls’ E-Xmas lists can be parsed by A.I. and the contents automagically put in a shopping cart at Amazon. I have no idea; I haven’t looked into it; I’m not interested. I strongly prefer paper.

The second thing you’ll immediately notice is that, while categorically extensive — playthings, sweets, marine animals — one item is conspicuously absent. I was as surprised as you are. She did not request a subscription to a quasi-luddite literary-and-lifestyle theory-and-praxis journal with a Christian ethos and a quarterly print edition. Go figure.

I can only assume it is because she was not aware that one is now available. Or because she is three.

In any case, I’m planning to append it to her list and secure such a subscription for the whole family. And I think you should do the same. Because, I am quite pleased to announce, Hearth & Field is (as of this very moment) accepting sign-ups for a new premium subscription level. (See oversized link below.)

This new level includes a gorgeous print collection, mailed to your home or office four times per year. It’s heavy, full-color, and ad-free. As the sign-up page correctly states, “This is not some skim-it-then-scrap-it flimsy little thing — our print collections are made to be kept, offering you a lasting item to consult and treasure.” 

From the outset, it has been our desire and plan that H&F would eventually be available in bound, paper form. When we sent a survey out earlier this year, we were encouraged to learn that the great majority of respondents felt the same way. Per everything the publication is trying to articulate, it simply must be something real. Something you can hold in your hands, carry around with you, or thumb through by the fireside. Something that doesn’t disappear if your battery dies. 

The subscription does, though, also include some new online features (again, quasi-luddite), which we hope will help everyone involved (readers, writers, and editors) to connect more closely with one another and with what H&F is and will become. It’s a deeper integration, a collaborative, community undertaking. In the strange times in which we live — these challenging, scattering times — it is imperative that people of goodwill band together to resist the engines of our age with boldness, calmness, intelligence, and good cheer.

Incidentally, as way of a welcome gift, we’re having a leather H&F bookmark made for you by a craftsman in Wisconsin. And we’ll send you a hand-made H&F mug. If you want to give the subscription as a gift (to three-year-olds or otherwise), we’ll email you a little stocking stuffer you can print out to let them know it’s on its way. 

The Premium Subscription is not free, but you don’t have to pay anything till later. And we’re confident it can (quite literally) pay for itself numerous times over if you take it seriously and implement even a few of the suggested lifestyle ideas. Per the sign-up page: “The goal is to live a life of ever-deepening goodness, truth, and beauty — which, happily, means a life that is also steadier, more secure, and very likely less costly.”

If you’d like to learn more, see the prominently oversized link below. Also, if you know where to get a baby sea otter, please write me back at this address.