Today is Boxing Day and, because it is the 26th December (Boxing Day isn't always 26th December but that ship probably sailed in terms of arguing the toss), it is the Feast of Stephen, the day Good King Wenceslas looked out.
Stephen was the first Christian martyr. Having been chosen by the apostles to wait at tables, to save the important people doing that, he ended up doing a long apologetic speech and being stoned to death for blasphemy, Saul looking on, pre-conversion and name-change and approving of his murder. I probably fall short of that level of Christian commitment although who knows, given the circumstances, which I hope I never am, might I?
I have always been Steve for as long as I can remember. Occasional aunties used Stephen, as did people in the north-east who prefer to call people by their full Christian name, preceded by 'our' if they are family. One or two friends and my dear wife call me Stephen when they are searching for my attention or deliberately trying to irritate me. It works.
I am glad to be Steve not Stephen. Thanks Mum and Dad.
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