In the giving and the receiving

A present arrived today. "Letters to a Young Poet" by Rilke. I've not got any Rilke, though I love it. I have this theory that Rilke is one of those writers you don't buy for yourself. You don't go to Waterstones and think "I'll get a volume of Rilke"; you buy it for someone else, or you get it given to you. So you would only have Rilke on your shelf if someone had bought you a copy. And, until now, no-one has. Part of its significance is in the giving and the receiving. The epitome of Christmas present giving, in other words. So many of the quotations appear in quotation anthologies, and so much great wisdom, simply expressed. Loads of cross-references to novels and films that I like too. Wonderful.

Things go on much the same; the season of Bing and Santa draws to its inevitable conclusion. Nine church services over the next five days, and that's just me! Some one asked how I did it (presumably all the rushing about and turning up here there and everywhere). I gently pointed out that I wasn't the actual vicar, merely a stunt double employed at this time of year to make the job easier. Like the real Santa, I need lots of stand-ins. I don't think she was convinced. In fact, I know how I do it. I do it by neglecting myself and my family and my friends, and concentrating entirely on the parishes and their needs.