The Black-and-White Wedding That Wasn't

Beth Aronson is a psychologist and so presumably is trained to deal with a patient possessed of a well-developed fantasy life, a fantasy life that includes, say, an overwhelming desire to invite America's most famous giant pandas to her wedding.

What would Beth tell such a patient? "I would say, 'It's lovely. Don't expect them to come.' "

Beth should know. She invited Tai Shan and Mei Xiang to her wedding on New Year's Eve. The beautifully addressed envelope -- the recipients' names rendered in a flowing calligraphic hand -- is at the National Zoo. So is the reply card, its choice of wedding dinner entrees left unticked. (Would the pandas have gone for the haddock, the vegetarian lasagna or the macaroni and cheese children's meal? We'll never know.)

Also at the zoo: a Christmas card for the pandas. The outside features a snowy New England church. Inside, someone wrote "Dear Tai Shan," above this saccharine greeting card sentiment: "In the quiet moment's of a winter's day may you reflect on the grace and beauty of Christmas."

It's signed " Art ."

Someone whose signature looks like " G. Paleno " sent two framed pastel portraits of pandas to the pandas, one in black-and-white, one in color.

And then there are the countless letters from schoolchildren. A first-grader at Murch Elementary in the District sent a sizable collection of his panda-centric writings and drawings, labeled "Evan's Writing, 2005-2006."

"Dear Tai Shan," he wrote. "I wonder how comfortably you sleep in that basket. I think you may need a big one very soon because you are growing fast."

Some correspondents seem to recognize that although pandas can strip bamboo quite competently, the animals do not in fact possess the ability to read and so address their comments to the panda keepers instead.

"I like your job," wrote one student from Wilderness Elementary in Spotsylvania, Va.

Wrote another: "Did you know I like pandas a lot? Good day."

These missives illustrate the Power of the Pandas.