Published on 5 October 2026 · 3 min read

You've been thinking about it for months. Sometimes since before the birth: she'll be the godmother. Or he'll be the godfather. And then, when the day comes to actually ask, the question gets slipped in at the end of a phone call, somewhere between a bottle and a load of washing: "Oh, by the way, we wanted to ask you…" The answer is yes, of course, everyone is moved for thirty seconds, and the conversation moves on. That's a shame. It's not a question you ask ten times in a lifetime, and the person who says yes is signing up for a long while. A question like that deserves to arrive in a letterbox, with a photo, and to be something you can keep.
On the phone you have to answer straight away, and the answer always comes out a bit sideways: "Oh! Well, yes! Obviously!" A card gives the other person time to be touched on their own, standing in the hallway with the post in their hand. It also leaves a trace. Ten years from now, when the goddaughter asks "why are you my godmother?", all it takes is opening a drawer to show her the answer. No voice note does that. And don't worry about the suspense: they'll ring you within the minute, and that call will be far better than the one you would have made.
No need for staging, or for a babygrow printed specially. Pick a simple, well-lit photo where you can see the face: the baby asleep with clenched fists, staring very seriously at the lens, or gripping a finger. If you have one where the future godmother is already holding the baby, that's the one, no question. And if the baby isn't born yet, a photo of the two of you, fifteen years ago or last summer, says very clearly why you chose her. The card will end up on the fridge or in a frame, so choose a picture people will want to look at for a long time.
There's no point describing the role, she knows it. What she doesn't know is why you thought of her. Write it in one true sentence: "You're the one who taught me to ride a bike with no hands, and I'd like you to teach Alice a few bad habits too." Or: "We were looking for someone Leo can count on the day he stops talking to us. We didn't look for long." Then the question, as plain as can be: "Will you be her godmother?" You can also let the baby do the talking, if that sounds like you: "I hear you make the best pancakes in the family. Handy, because I'm looking for a godfather." Three or four lines are enough. And no ceremony date or list of things to organise: that comes after the yes.
There's no rush, and that's a good thing: this card doesn't have to land on a particular day. Send it once your mind is made up, during the pregnancy or in the first few weeks. If you'd like an answer before a christening or a family gathering, give yourself a good month, so the card has time to arrive and the two of you have time to talk about it. And if you're choosing a godfather and a godmother, make two cards, with two photos and two different reasons: each of them should feel the question is being asked of them alone.
With UnCoucou, you choose the photo and write your question from your phone; we print your card on thick premium paper and hand it to La Poste with our next dispatch (there's at least one a week). It then takes 2 to 5 working days to arrive, from €2.49 a card, stamp included. One morning, between two bills, someone will find a photo of your child and a question you only answer once. Keep your phone close that day.