HERE'S a true Christmas story more heartening even than Scrooge's repentance.

It's about a northern lad, born in Leeds in 1910, by the name of John Boom. He was an altar boy and choirboy at the High Church - "smells and bells" - of St Saviour's. He grew up and did the sorts of things good northern lads do: got a steady job, enjoyed playing sports of all kinds, married, settled down and raised a family. Then he developed circulation problems in his legs.

There followed years and years of painful and terrifying operations as first part of his toe, then the whole toe, then a leg and finally both legs were amputated. John recalls waking up in the dark in the Leeds hospital, afraid, feeling the eerie pain in the phantom limbs and then pondering the appalling possibility that the circulation problems might spread to his arms as well.

He wrote: "I must confess. A certain bitterness had crept in. Why does God allow these terrible things to happen to humanity? I don't know. What I do know, though, is that one must believe in him and have faith in him and trust him, and above all accede to his will at all times. There is only one thing to do. Place your complete trust in God and look around you. You will find lots of other people who have suffered far worse than yourself by the barbed arrows of misfortune. You will find it is an extremely good philosophy."

Those are astonishingly moving words: that a young man could suffer the agony and privation of losing his limbs and still find it in him to turn to God not in recrimination, but in trust is profoundly humbling. And amazingly - John would have said by the grace of God - he did make something of his life. He wrote to others who were crippled and diseased and, when he got his invalid car, he went round to visit them. He played a full part in the life of the community. His wheelchair was a landmark week by week at Leeds Rugby League ground, as it was in the chancel at St Bartholomew's, Armley for Mass every Sunday morning.

He regarded himself not as disabled but only handicapped. He thought nothing of doing his own home decorating, including shuffling around on top of the piano to paint the ceiling! And he helped the vicar with the administration of the parish - at least until, owing to his subversive sense of humour, he was "retired" for inserting cheeky comments in the parish minute book.

John died in 1986 and left behind him the manuscript of a short autobiography. This has just been published by his daughter Thelma and his son-in-law Mike, and it is mordantly titled "Stumped". It's an amusing and wholly inspiring read and you can get a copy for £2.60 from 26 Armley Grange Avenue, Leeds LS12 3QN - all the proceeds go to St Bartholomew's church.

I have a personal memory to add. I went to school with John's son, Rod. In the 1960s when winkle-picker shoes became to die for once again, John gave me his superior leather pair from the 1930s. "You might as well have 'em, Peter. I don't really need 'em any more, do I?" They fitted as if they had been made for me and I strutted my stuff around the Mecca Locarno and the Capitol Ballroom as if I were the bee's knees.

Thanks again John. God bless you.

* Peter Mullen is Rector of St Michael's, Cornhill, in the City of London, and Chaplain to the Stock Exchange.