Be grateful for spring — and the jab

WHEN you read this column (probably on Saturday morning, I’m guessing), I shall be heading off for my Covid vaccine at a local church hall — and very pleased I shall be.

I simply cannot understand why anybody would refuse to be inoculated — anything that assists slow steps towards recovery is more than welcome to me. I was thrilled when my 96-year-old Mum had hers a couple of weeks ago.

When I was a child in the Fifties you sometimes saw children supported by heavy irons on their legs because they had contracted polio. So it seemed such a privilege to be offered inoculation in our primary schools.

Perhaps it’s because of that background that I tend towards gratitude, rather than seeing things as my ‘right’.

The NHS is, after all, exactly the same age as I am and must have seemed such a gift to my parents’ generation. When my father (now 99) attends hospital for routine procedures he unfailingly says, ‘Thank you’ — more than once — to medical staff.

So (not taking anything for granted) I was absurdly pleased to receive my vaccine summons. And while it obviously won’t free me from lockdown, it feels like a step forward.

So I shall take that positive step out into our rainy garden, where the snowdrops lie in swathes of white and green beneath the trees, and there are clumps of primroses, too.

The spikes of daffodils and narcissi are already pushing up, and soon there will be golden crocuses and grape hyacinths. Then will come the sweet purple and white violets in hidden corners, only found if you kneel.

Kneeling seems to me to be the right attitude — even if (with creaky joints!) you simply bow down within your head. Because the glorious, fresh green force in parks and gardens may seem unstoppable, but still can’t be taken for granted. It demands wonder and gratitude — like the vaccine programme which is going so well and in which we have to place our hope.

Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 2 Derry Street, london W8 5TT, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. Names are changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.