Septuaginta dies natalis quinto

On this Saint Bonaventure feast day three-quarters of a century ago, I came into the world; so my thoughts are naturally with my parents whose memory I cherish beyond measure, and to whom I owe so much: a love of music, an appreciation of the arts; a spiritual dimension, and a childlike innocence.

In my mother's arms at the age of four weeks, I was destined to be an only child, and greatly loved.

My parents at the Café Royal, Regent Street, London, in 1953.

My parents' remains are contained at my private retreat.