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Saturday, 17 December 2011

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Oooh, I wish that I were a recipient of a Christmas card from the Pope! I'd frame it and hang it on the wall for decades to come. I'd use it for my social-climbing purposes; if visitors came round then I'd find some reason to dust the framed card and remark in a stage whisper, 'oh my card from the Pope is speckled in dust! We can't have that!' I'd take my framed card and march up Notting Hill to the Carmelites and ask them to give the card a Carmelite blessing and then down the hill again, and walk across crispy-with-frozen-grass Princess Gardens toward Brompton and ask the Oratory Fathers to give the card an Oratorian blessing. Then by the time I would have bored and irritated everyone by showing off the card, I'd be lucky to receive one card next year!

But I've done nothing to merit getting one of Pope Benedict's cards. And at the end of the day, it's a greeting card, albeit a card from the most distinguished Catholic priest in the world and the leader that us 1.14 billion Catholics are blessed with. I'll stop coveting B16’s card and treasure all the Christmas cards from my friends, past pupils and former love interests.

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