Hallelujah Noel be it Heaven or Hell The Christmas you get you deserve...’ These are the end lyrics to Greg Lake’s Christmas classic I Believe In Father Christmas, and you know what, they’re bang on.

If all you see in Christmas is the bad, then frankly you’ve only yourself to blame if it’s anything less than euphoric.

On the other hand, if you tend to look for all that’s good about the season, chances are you’ll enjoy it.

It’s not rocket science. You get out what you put in.

I’ve no time for the Bah-Humbugs who get their kicks through their self-inflicted suffering around this time of year.

There’s no bigger target than the whole Three-Wise-Men-No-Room-At-The-Inn shebang so it’s hardly a bullseye worth shouting about.

Yes, the world is full of suffering and despair. But thankfully it’s also full of people who want to do the right thing.

And in Oxford there’s more than most.

Do I have any figures or statistics to back up this claim?

No, of course not. So you’ve got me there. But every week, without fail, I always bump into someone who makes me smile.

They don’t have ‘Saint’ or ‘Hero’ stamped on their backs, and as far as I can tell, none of them are up to miracles.

But nonetheless, without fail, and in the tiniest ‘blink-and-you’ll-miss-it’ ways, they’re out there.

And we’ve all met them.

They’re faceless, unbelievably normal and completely unversed in how to advertise their decency.

Instead, and without the modern fanfare of self-promotion, they just get on with being open, considerate, generous, caring (plus the rest of the thesaurus), and almost always to total strangers.

Masters of the innocent gesture, they’re the types who by some minor, infinitesimally small act of kindness can turn a whole day around.

Indeed, their ‘effect’ is normally only felt after the event, five, 10 minutes later when, involved in some other mundane activity of the day, you’re suddenly brought up short by just how ‘kind’ they really were.

And best of all, like a fine perfume, that sense of well meaning lingers...

Well, now that I’ve got that off my chest I’m all set for everything these last few days of Christmas always promise.

Yes, I have forgotten good friends (their cards dropped through my letterbox on Saturday); yes, I have eaten – and drunk – what I bought in last week for the day itself; and yes, I am going very, very quickly broke.

But it’s the same every year and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Which means all I have to do... is say Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas (twice for good measure).