Hartley Neita, Contributor

Today is my birthday. I am not telling you of this anniversary because I want you to send me presents I will not refuse them. I am just mentioning it as a matter of record. In fact, as a young child, my parents gave me a present at Christmas and said it was also a birthday present.

I was, therefore, in the same situation as the baby who was born in the manger. Except that he got birthday presents but did not get Christmas gifts. His were frankincense, myrrh and gold from his three godfathers, while my goddies - and I do not remember who they were - never gave me any of these three kingly gifts, especially the gold.

It was years later that I got a gold Parker fountain pen with my name engraved on it on my birthday from a girl. There was also a heart with an arrow piercing it. She got rid of me before we could celebrate a second anniversary of togetherness. Just because I forgot her birthday.

Subsequently, someone borrowed the pen and did not return it. I did not notice it then and I have forgotten who the thief was. It was not the loss of the pen that hurt; it was the memories it recalled whenever I wrote with it.

Birthdays are nice. You know who your real friends are. A few will send you a card. Others will call you on the telephone. There are also others who, when they see you days later, wish you had a happy day. So, if you do not telephone me today or send me a card, you can still wish me happiness tomorrow, next week, or until it is too late to do so.

Reflecting on birthdays, 30 years or so ago, we were celebrating the birthday of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth every year. Before she became the monarch, we celebrated the birthday of her father King George VI, and it was the same with his predecessors. These birthdays were marked with a gun salute by the army. There was also a parade by the army at Up Park Camp and a reception at King's House where the glitter of high society wished her, in absentia, a happy birthday.

It was a public holiday in Jamaica - but strangely, not in England. Children were expected to go to their schools, stand at attention and sing the national anthem which was then the prayer of 'God Save the Queen'. We also sang 'Rule Brittania' and swore that being good Britons, we would never ever be slaves. Ha!

It was also a day when ladies and gentlemen were recognised by Her Majesty with honours and awards ranging from knighthoods to Orders of the British Empire.

Looking back in time, it seems as if those birthday celebrations almost rivalled the first Christmas. Maybe it was meant to be.