A bishop who will be saying Mass in prison on Christmas Day reflects on the period when we must wait impatiently for Jesus to come knocking at the door of our hearts, inviting us to follow him

One of the happiest Christmases I can remember was when we invited an ex-convict to tea. I was just six. My father had befriended Stuart in Wandsworth Prison as Stuart prepared for release. Stuart was a regular visitor to our house; and it seemed right he should join us for Christmas. To see the thrill on his face as he beheld the table – the cake, the mince pies, the crackers – simply made my heart soar. His joy seemed to multiply tenfold our own joy at being together.

I always think of Stuart when I am in prison on Christmas Day. It is the dullest day to be in prison. Why? Because there are no visits. Of course, the inmates think of their loved ones acutely. They let you know this by queuing at the end of Mass to show you pictures – of spouses, children, parents; and asking you to bless them. “It’s the fourth year I’ve done this to my mum. I’m so stupid,” one prisoner told me. “Can you please pray for her that she gets through the day?”