One honest admission before we start

Most readers who land on this page will, after reading it, end up using the word godmother or godfather anyway. They will think about it for a few minutes, ask a sibling or a parent or a partner what the family has always called this person, and the gendered word will turn out to be available after all, and they will go and write that card. That is fine. If you knew which gendered word fit, you would already be writing that card; you would not have searched for this one. This article is for the genuine cases where neither word fits, and the honest thing to say at the top is that it is a smaller article than the godmother and godfather ones for a reason. The universe of singular-umbrella godparent cases is real but not large, and padding it would be the kind of dishonest move the rest of this article is trying to refuse.

The cases that genuinely belong here are roughly five. A godparent who is non-binary and for whom either gendered word would be wrong. A godparent who uses a chosen first-name-only or chosen-title address that has no gendered word attached. A secondhand card, where you are writing on behalf of someone whose godparent has died or is ill, and you yourself never met them and do not know which gendered word the family used. A chosen-family arrangement, sometimes called a fairy godparent or a guideparent or a sponsor-by-another-name, where there was no baptism and no gendered title was ever issued. And a faith-adapted arrangement, where the family adapted the Christian godparent model from a Hindu, Sikh, Muslim, Buddhist or secular guide-figure tradition and the closest English word is godparent without a gendered tail. The 47 lines below are sorted across those five cases plus a short-and-funny tail at the end.

For a non-binary godparent

If your godparent is non-binary, or if the godparent of someone you are writing for is non-binary, godmother and godfather are both the wrong word and the card has to know it. Use the word godparent in the body of the card, in the address on the envelope, and in the signature line if you sign on behalf of more than yourself. Name the specific thing they do that the gendered cards in the aisle would have tried to fold into either femininity or masculinity. Say the role, name the years, write the line.

  • Happy birthday to my godparent, the title plain and the gendered tail nowhere in sight. Twenty-three years of you in this role, and I have not once needed the other word.
  • Happy birthday, Quill. You picked the word godparent the night of the christening because you said it was the only one that fit, and the family has used it every birthday since. We are still using it.
  • You have been my godparent for as long as I have had the word for it, and the fact that the cards aisle still does not stock the singular word does not change that you have done the job.
  • Happy birthday from a godchild who has, over the years, written the word godparent on every card to you, even the years the printed card said something else and I had to scribble it out.
  • Happy birthday to the godparent who picked the word for themselves, kept it consistent across two decades and three house moves, and made the choice easy for the rest of us.
  • You are the godparent the supermarket card aisle has not yet caught up to. We have. Happy birthday.
  • Many happy returns. The cards in the shop on Cromwell Street say godmother or godfather and I have crossed both out with a fine-liner. Your card says godparent because that is what you are.
  • Happy birthday to the godparent whose name is the only title they have ever wanted, and whose name is the one I am signing this card with.

For a godparent who goes by a chosen name without a gendered title

This is the godparent who, somewhere between the baptism and now, asked the family to drop the gendered word and just go by their first name, or by a chosen address that has no gendered tail. Sometimes it is a generational thing, sometimes it is a personal preference, sometimes it is a quiet rejection of the gendered cards the godparent has been receiving for decades and has finally said something about. Match what they actually go by out loud. If the family says "Bevan" without any prefix, the card says "Bevan" without any prefix. Do not switch registers because the shop card said "Dear Godmother" in copperplate.

  • Happy birthday, Bevan. No prefix. That is how the family has been writing your cards for fifteen years and that is how this one is signed.
  • You asked the family in 2014 to drop the godmother and just be Bevan, and the family has, and the cards have. Happy birthday.
  • Happy birthday to the godparent who has always gone by first name only, and whose card has, accordingly, always gone by first name only too. It is its own small registered tradition.
  • You are not Aunt and you are not Godmother and you are not Auntie and you have never been any of those things to me; you have been Bevan, and the card is to Bevan.
  • Happy birthday. We have been writing your cards in the first-name register for so long that the family has had to remember, this week, that you technically have the godparent title at all. You still do. Many happy returns.
  • You picked the name and you kept the role, and the rest of the family has spent twenty years quietly learning to write a card that does the second without leaning on the first. Happy birthday.
  • Happy birthday to the godparent whose chosen address is, today, the only one on the envelope. The post still gets through. The card still lands.

For writing on behalf of a friend whose godparent has died

The hardest secondhand card in this whole article. You did not know the godparent. The friend, or the family, has been referring to them in conversation by first name only and you have never asked whether it was godmother or godfather and now you are sitting down to write the card on behalf of the people in the family who cannot. Do not guess at a gendered word. Stay with what you actually know, which is that the friend loved them, that they were the godparent at the christening, and that they are no longer here.

  • Sending you a birthday card for the first birthday without your godparent, which I know is one of the harder ones, and I am thinking about you.
  • I never met Bevan, but I have heard about them at every birthday and every Christmas of the eleven years we have been friends, and the card today is for them as much as it is for you.
  • I am writing this for the friend whose godparent died in March, and the card is small because I did not know them; the love is for you and through you.
  • Your godparent's birthday today, and I am marking it in this house because you are marking it in yours. Thinking of you both.
  • I asked you, after the funeral, whether to write godmother or godfather on the card and you said neither and I have stayed with that. Happy birthday to Bevan from the friend who learned the right word from you.
  • The card is for the godparent I never met and for you, the godchild I have known for half my life. Happy birthday, in their direction and in yours.

For a chosen-family godparent without a baptism or christening

Sometimes the godparent in your life never stood at a font and never picked up a gendered title because the family arrangement was, from the start, a chosen-family one rather than a religious one. The friend of your parents who was named your godparent at a small gathering in a back garden. The teacher or coach who was given the role informally and has kept it for thirty years. The relative-of-a-relative who has, in practice, done the job without anybody ever announcing it. This card has the most room in the whole article, because the relationship has been mostly unscripted from the start.

  • Happy birthday to the godparent who was never christened into the role, never given the gendered word, and has done the job without either piece of paperwork for thirty-one years.
  • You were named my godparent at a kitchen table in 2003 without a priest or a ceremony or a single piece of paper, and you have not let it lapse since. Happy birthday.
  • Happy birthday. The family has always called you a fairy godparent for short, which is half a joke and half the most accurate word any of us has come up with for what you have done.
  • You took the role on at a barbecue in someone's back garden in Worcester in 2001, and you have done it longer than most baptismal godparents would have. Happy birthday.
  • Happy birthday to the godparent the family chose without anybody having to ask a vicar. You have been the long quiet middle of the arrangement.
  • You are the godparent who came with no title attached, no gendered word, no font and no priest, and who has done the work anyway. The card is to that.

For a new parent writing to their child's godparent

This is the new-parent card, and the new parent's problem is that they have just had their first child christened, the friend they picked as godparent has chosen a non-gendered address, and the new parent is sitting down to write the godparent's first birthday card after the christening without knowing what to put on the envelope. Stay with what the godparent has actually told you to call them. Write the card from the household, name the choice, name that it is early days. The relationship has decades to go and the first card does not have to do all of the work.

  • Happy birthday to the godparent who said yes at our daughter's christening in April and has, in the four months since, become a fixture in our house. The card is from the three of us.
  • You held our boy at the font in February and you have rung us about him every fortnight since. Happy birthday from the new parents who are very glad they asked.
  • Happy birthday. The first year of being someone's godparent is a strange one to mark, and we are marking it. Thank you for saying yes without making us pick a gendered word for the certificate.
  • You are the godparent we chose, the one our daughter is already starting to recognise, and the one whose name on the envelope is the only word the card needs. Happy birthday from her, in due course.
  • Happy birthday from the family that picked you. One year in. Thirty or forty to go. The pace will not always be this much.

For a godparent the family adapted from another tradition

Plenty of families adapted the Christian godparent model from a Hindu, Sikh, Muslim or Buddhist guide-figure tradition, or from a fully secular naming-day arrangement, and the closest English word for the role is godparent without a gendered tail because the original tradition did not carry one. The card should sit honestly inside whatever the original tradition actually was. Name the role. Name what they have done. Do not paste the Christian register on top of an arrangement that has never used it.

  • Happy birthday to the guide-figure my parents chose for me in their own tradition in 1995, and who has carried the role with all the seriousness it asked for.
  • You took on the role at a naming day, not a baptism, and the family has called you godparent in English ever since because the original word does not translate cleanly. Happy birthday.
  • Happy birthday. The role you said yes to has no Christian godmother or godfather inside it; it has its own thirty-year history that the family has, for English convenience, called godparent. The card is to the role you actually took on.
  • You are the guide-figure my parents chose at my naming ceremony, in a tradition that does not gender the role, and the card today honours that without translating it back into a word it never belonged to.
  • Happy birthday to the godparent the family chose inside its own tradition, and who has done the job in the language and in the rituals it actually fits inside.

Short lines for the singular-umbrella godparent card

For a text on the morning, the bottom of a group card with eight signatures already on it, or the inside of the card you have run out of room in. Twelve words or fewer apiece, every one of them doing real work. The short ones only land when they sound like you, not the supermarket aisle.

  • Happy birthday, godparent. The word is right. The card is on the way.
  • From the godchild who has only ever called you by your name. Have a good one.
  • Many happy returns, godparent. No prefix. No gendered tail. Just the word.
  • Happy birthday. Card crossed out and rewritten. Worth it.
  • Best of birthdays from your godchild in the islands. Mean it.

Funny lines (gently, and only if the running joke fits)

Godparent humour, in the singular-umbrella register, almost always lands on the cards aisle itself. The shop only stocks the gendered version. You crossed it out. The fine-liner did the work the printer would not. Affectionate, mildly knowing, never sharper than the relationship can carry.

  • Happy birthday. I had to cross out GODMOTHER on the front of the card with a fine-liner because the Tesco on Cromwell Street still does not stock the singular word. The fine-liner did its best.
  • Many happy returns from the godchild who has, this year, walked out of three different shops and bought a blank card instead. You are worth the blank card.
  • Happy birthday to the godparent whose cards I have been hand-lettering since 2011 because the supermarket has never caught up. The handwriting is, by now, the design.

Lines for a family group card

If the card is going from a group, especially for a milestone, each signer should write only the line they would actually write. The singer who calls the godparent by first name signs in that register; the cousin who only met them at the christening signs in theirs. The group card holds the mixture better than a single signer trying to flatten everybody into one address.

  • From the godchild who has only ever called you Bevan: happy birthday.
  • From the family who chose you at the kitchen table in 2003, with the addition of the godchild who has been calling you that ever since: happy birthday, godparent.

Turn it into a group card

A godparent's birthday is one of the natural group cards in any extended chosen-family arrangement, because the household around them has more sides than a paper card from one signer can carry. The other godparent, your siblings, your parents who chose the godparent in the first place, the cousins and the friends who were at the christening or the naming ceremony or the back-garden gathering where the role was given. A group birthday card online handles the geometry without anybody having to courier a paper card around three counties. One link to the family chat, everyone writes their own line in their own register, and the card lands on the morning of the birthday with whichever address each signer actually uses for the godparent, gendered or not.

You can create a card online in a couple of minutes, pick a cover photograph from the christening or the naming day or the back-garden gathering, and set the delivery for the morning. If the card is from just you, a free online birthday card goes in seconds. For the wider chosen-family group that wants the whole gathered table on it, a group card with multiple signatures is the right shape, because the singular-umbrella godparent card almost always benefits from more than one address inside the same envelope.

The two articles closest in voice to this one are the godmother wishes guide and the godfather wishes guide, both shipped, both for readers who have already worked out which gendered word fits and want the longer language for it. If you have been told there is no font in the story at all, the wishes for aunt piece is closer to the register a chosen-family arrangement can borrow from, and for the wider birthday-card guide the full guide to what to write in a birthday card has the four-part structure these lists are built on.

The card for Nia's godparent went in the post on Wednesday from the small post office at the top of Point Street. I went back into the Tesco on Cromwell Street on the Friday afternoon to pick up bread, and I stood in front of the aisle again because the friend whose flat I was staying in had told me they had seen a single hand-drawn GODPARENT card propped against the till the week before, made by somebody in the town and sold for charity, and I wanted to see if there was another. There was not. The thirty-one gendered cards were still there. The hand-drawn one had sold. I did not ask who had made it. I bought the bread and walked home up Bayhead, and the card I had posted to Nia two days earlier was, by then, already on the boat out of the harbour, with GODPARENT written in fine-liner on the front because there had been no other word I was willing to use, and Bevan's name underneath it in a hand that was, by then, getting steadier on the word.