The Tribune

WITH Christmas just a day away, this weekly column allows me the pleasure of writing about the joys of such a wonderful time of the year. But it is also a moment to think about the lonely and less fortunate for whom the celebrations can be a time of woe and pain as they suffer the sadness of loss and deprivation while we are all urged to ‘eat, drink and be merry’ in the traditional way.

From childhood we are told that Christmas is all about nice presents placed by a benevolent Father Christmas on a special tree – popularised in 19th century Britain by Queen Victoria – in a family gathering with lots to eat and drink. And what, we think, can be better than that? Later, we discover it is about celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ, in a manger because there was no room at the inn. Then, as adults, we find out that the birth of the Messiah to save mankind from sin marked a fresh beginning, symbolising a new way of looking at life, love and death; and it became a religious holiday with the Christian message of love and redemption.

So we believe that it should always be a time of happiness, pleasure and hospitality in bringing cheer to other people’s lives in a season of goodwill. All of this should be amidst the home and the hearth and warmth of family and friends, giving and receiving presents and singing Christmas carols in a spirit of joy and love.

For people in Britain, that means nowadays a Christmas Day sumptuous lunch followed by family and friends gathering in front of the television to watch the traditional Queen’s Speech – pre-recorded, of course, but its contents are kept under wraps and it is still awaited with keen anticipation – and with grandpa trying to stay awake after imbibing more than he is accustomed to.

Despite all this, greed and materialism are gradually taking over, resulting in commercialism at the expense of the original meaning of Christmas. But that is no reason to abandon the old traditions that anchor people in time-honoured rituals which represent the strength and true spirit of such an important event in the Christian calendar as the birth of Jesus Christ.

This is against the background of the classic work, A Christmas Carol, by famous 19th century English writer, Charles Dickens, in which the miserly Scrooge is transformed into a kinder and gentler man. It is a story of hope, generosity and compassion, and it remains a much loved tale despite the claim by some that Dickens was indulging in sentimentality in the midst of the poverty and squalor of Victorian England in which – despite the Industrial Revolution that brought wealth to the country – there existed a huge gap between the rich and the poor.

In modern times, the basic issue remains: how to reconcile the majority’s lavish expenditure and consumption at Christmas with the deprivation and poverty that still exists and-–  perhaps more importantly in today’s society – with the misery and hurt of lonely people at a time when everyone is expected to be enjoying themselves with family and friends.

Christmas can be a difficult time without love and companionship. Reportedly, in Britain an estimated eight million people live alone. Not all will be suffering the pain of loneliness. But at Christmas time thousands call in to helplines, which are manned 24/7 during holiday periods, just to talk to somebody, and it is particularly hard on those with disabilities who cannot leave their homes.

Divorce and bereavement can also affect people at Christmas when the void left by their nearest and dearest seems worse. In our own case, my wife and I suffered family bereavement last year and, although one never gets over it, one learns to cope in order for life to continue.

While Christmas can be a long day for some, those who understand the pain of others say the trick is to do something completely different, like a cruise or a package holiday or to help provide succour for others like volunteering to prepare and distribute food for the homeless and rough sleepers. If readers will forgive a trip down memory lane, my own experience of Christmas over the years has been varied. At a very early age, I can recall not wanting to upset my parents by revealing to them that I already knew about the special toy military fort they had had built – and were giving me as a surprise on Christmas morning –- because I had heard it being delivered to the house on Christmas Eve when I was supposed to be asleep. Then there was the huge alfresco Christmas lunch at our grandparents’ house in a New Zealand southern hemisphere summer with all the children seated at one long table in the sunshine.

After many family Christmas Days in England, I then found myself spending one in the bosom of my roommate’s family in New Hampshire when I was an exchange student at school in Massachusetts. A year later, I was lucky to secure a three-day Christmas pass from basic training in the Royal Marines which provided merciful temporary release from the shouting and screaming of an obnoxious drill sergeant; and another year on, as a young British officer in the West African bush with my Nigerian soldiers who were mostly Muslim, we hardly celebrated at all.

There followed enjoyable Christmases in diplomatic missions in various countries where we not only partied hard but also wrote and performed pantomimes, to the merriment of all. More recently, with our two boys staying for the holidays in Nassau, my wife and I had a memorable Christmas Day lunch with them and others at Lyford Cay.

What memories, indeed. This year we were preparing for a family holiday deep in the English countryside of Herefordshire; and we were promised dogs, wood-burners, country walks and a concert in the local church. But in the end the travel arrangements proved too complicated and we stayed at home after all.

So, this Christmas, as people think of the poor and needy and the sick and the lonely, perhaps one should remember the fragility of life and give thanks for the many blessings enjoyed and which all too often are taken for granted. But, above all, the most important gift is love. As Sir John Templeton says in his wonderful book  “Discovering the Laws of Life”, people need to learn to reflect love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control – and, if they do this, others will seek their company because of the comfort, companionship, friendship and love they experience with them.

Merry Christmas to all.

A formidable man who will be missed by so many

I should like to take this opportunity to add to the many tributes paid to Richard Coulson who passed away earlier this month. I believe it was clear to all who came to know him well that Dick was a truly remarkable man, endowed with many and varied talents including a razor-sharp intellect and a sound knowledge of the workings of the world. During a successful professional career as a widely-travelled lawyer, banker and financial adviser, he must have been a formidable operator – particularly at his peak. Educated at Andover, one of America’s best private schools, followed by Yale and a spell in the US army, including service in the Korean war, he also clearly enjoyed a happy personal life as a family man with many and varied interests including becoming, I gather, a high-class sailor.

Some five years ago, he produced an excellent autobiography entitled A Corkscrew Life: Adventures of a Travelling Financier. In this he chronicles - with due modesty, evident restraint and absence of hyperbole - an interesting and successful life of impressive achievement together with accounts of many good friendships in different places over the years. He kindly gave me a signed copy at a book launch that attracted many of his friends and admirers. It is a wonderfully good read and a compelling account of what others have described as a life well lived.

As well as being an expert and wise financial adviser, whose insights and sound analysis were much in demand, Dick Coulson was a highly skilled writer who produced a regular column for The Tribune that was consistently informative and interesting. He ranged over many different subjects and expressed ideas with authority and certainty, often explaining the intricacies of complex issues in ways that were readily comprehensible to others – and that is surely the test of a clever writer. At the same time, in prompting others to think outside their comfort zone, he was not averse to being provocative if the subject called for it.

For my part, I much enjoyed email exchanges with him about our respective columns when, true to form, he was always constructive and helpful. My colleagues at the Nassau Institute also have fond memories of his attendance at our meetings when invariably he posed pertinent and penetrating questions to visiting speakers in that deep and unusual voice of his.

In the concluding pages of his autobiography, he penned some notably memorable words – “Life is full of ‘what ifs’, and it’s fruitless to speculate too long. The untaken fork in the road will always remain a mystery. One can only accept and enjoy the cards that have been dealt’’.

What better advice can there be than that as people navigate their way through the complexities of their own lives. He was a distinguished and formidable man, indeed –- one of huge and varied achievement who also experienced the joy of close family relationships together with many valued friendships during a long and fruitful life. He will be missed by so many.