Some of my most precious possessions are letters. Adolescent letters from school friends (pre-email gossip). Letters from friends living in exotic locations (including one from a friend in India in which a tiger appeared in front of him whilst he was writing to me). Letters from friends no longer with us (I have one from an old Oxford don in which he explains, in marvellous detail, the importance of leather to the medieval economy).
A wonderful thing about Westminster is that the handwritten word still flourishes there – nicer to receive, harder to leak, perhaps. People send notes of thanks and congratulations to friends, rivals and opponents as a matter of course. Putting fountain pen to paper is an old-fashioned courtesy that still has real currency.
Locally letter writing – and certainly card writing – is an art not yet lost. Last week I visited the Royal Mail sorting office in Brentwood early in the morning and saw the great men and women of the British postal service gearing up for the busiest time of the year. In the run up to Christmas the Royal Mail is in full flow, with extra staff taken on and a steely determination to make sure the mail gets through by Xmas day. As I write I have just finished the last of the many hundreds of Christmas cards I send every year (this year wonderfully designed for me by Imogen, aged 9, of St Helen’s Catholic Junior School) – having seen the Royal Mail in action I have no doubt that each will reach their destination.
The Christmas story is itself about the sharing of good news – of new life, of hope. And Christmas is as good an excuse as any to reach out to those whom we love who we haven’t found enough time for in the year – or to remind those whom we value that we do. By the time this is published we will be nearing the last possible posting date for Christmas cards and letters. Your words can make all the difference to someone.
I wish you all a very happy Christmas and all the best for the New Year.