Happy Birthday from Father Christmas!

 

On my 5th birthday I rushed out of the front door to greet the postman who was struggling up the driveway. 'Do you know what day it is today?' I asked excitedly.

'Christmas Eve, of course,' he winked, handing me a pile of envelopes. 'Everyone knows that.'

'No - it's my birthday,'  I replied tearfully before slipping on the icy doorstep and gouging a hole in my scalp.  I ended up in the emergency department of the city hospital with 10  stitches in  my head. That's one birthday I'll never forget.

As the day comes round again, the old childhood feelings still rush back - one present instead of two, nowhere to put my birthday cards, and absolutely no time for a party on my special day.  I remember one year going to stay with relatives who presented me with an amazing iced fruit cake. It was covered in silver baubles with my age in large numbers perched on the top.  I was so excited as I lit the candles and got ready to cut the first slice.

'Oh, we can't cut it,' my aunt said in a horrified voice. 'It's the Christmas cake too!'
Sure enough, the candles came off that night and my beautiful cake was trimmed with holly and a great big smiling Santa.

And please don't get me started on those jolly cards that say 'On your Christmas Birthday.' They were no doubt invented by someone who was born in the middle of June.

Seriously, though, as we approach the season of goodwill, lets remember why we celebrate  December 25th.   Christmas Day isn't just for baby Jesus - it really does belong to us all.