Choose joy this Christmas

As I was walking past a coffee shop in Central London last week, I saw my old pal Barry McIlhenney inside. In the brief moment I glanced through, I could see he was, in typical fashion, holding court. I was in a real hurry and thought I’d catch him on the way back or ring him. I did think it odd he was there, early on a Saturday morning, but he always had an ability to surprise.  

Then, a second or two later I remembered that Barry was dead. He died, suddenly, on 26 May this year. Quite why my mind decided to mess with me just then, who knows. Probably a man who looked a little like him. But there I was shaken, in that moment, and full of thoughts. 

Barry was a friend and a mentor. From Belfast, he’d scaled the heights of magazine publishing and had several stories for every day of week about it all. He looked out for me, as he did for many, and helped us up and along. His death, at 67, was a shock and I miss him. 

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At Christmas, there is a tug that so many people feel. The bright lights’ glare throws a shadow across those missing, temporarily or for good. There’s no easy way round it. And the generalised state of bewilderment settling on everything, uncertain, challenging, in flux, doesn’t help.  

Last week I was asked for my favourite Christmas film. I said Nativity 2. Nativity 2 is not a great film. In many ways, it’s a poor film. Though I’m assured it’s better than Nativity 3. I haven’t yet sampled that earthly delight. In Nativity 2, David Tennant is a teacher who is trying to help a class of average kids triumph at a singing competition.

There are a number of ludicrous plot twists, involving a duck-tour bus, Tennant’s pregnant wife, a donkey, the donkey lowered down a cliff on a rope and not a single moment of national crisis that a busload of school kids has gone missing. David Tennant also plays his own evil twin brother. 

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The reason I like this film is because when my children were much younger, we watched it. And then, for a couple of years, each Christmas, we watched it again. And then they got a little too old, and there were the years without, and now, I think, they’re old enough to be forced to sit through it again. At least it’ll make one person in the room happy. 

For whatever reason, this has felt like a year of loss and hard knocks for many. We can’t fix everything all at once and all the time. Sometimes we just have to go easy on ourselves and find what brings joy, and hold on.

There is going to be a place of warm memory for all that can chase the shadows and illume what was dark. If it’s Nativity 2, or whatever is your equivalent, lean in. There is no reason to hide these things at Christmas. McIlhenney would barrack me for choosing such a moment, but really he’d understand why.  

So thank you all, in the midst of the whirlwind, for thinking of others and supporting Big Issue. We exist for our vendor colleagues but all of us would be nowhere without you. 

Wherever you are, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Nollaig Shona. 

Paul McNamee is editor of the Big Issue. Read more of his columns here. Follow him on X.

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