I have three godmothers, writes Ellen Widdup.

The first is a top model from the 60s who once appeared on the cover of Vogue magazine.

The second is a super wealthy American with excellent taste in Christmas presents.

And the third is my aunt who, along with my uncle and only godfather, also took on the role of my legal guardian – they were the people my parents trusted most to take care of me if they were to die before my 18th birthday.

Ironically none of these wonderful role models are religious.

And yet traditionally, godparents are named during a church ceremony that seeks to provide a child with long-term spiritual guidance and a Christian education.

Much as I hate to disagree with this definition of the position, these days it is just plain wrong.

Without wanting to be cynical, most modern day godparents tend to be:

• Pals with a bit of cash to splash on your children.

• People whose job, expertise or social standing could help your kid in the future.

• People you wish to honour with a symbolic gift to mark your friendship.

Think about it.

David and Victoria Beckham did not pick Elton John as godfather to Brooklyn and Romeo because he is best placed to pass on the messages of the Bible, did they?

After all, only a few years ago the singer said he would like to see all organised religion banned and accused it of turning people into “hateful lemmings”.

And what about Bono, godfather to twins Knox and Vivienne Jolie-Pitt?

Sure, the lead singer of U2 might be an Angel of Harlem but he is also hugely influential in certain circles.

It must have occurred to Brad and Ange that he could help their little ones should they wish to pursue a career in music.

This sort of alignment has worked before.

Actress Sophia Loren is godmother to Drew Barrymore. Steven Spielberg, godfather to Gwyneth Paltrow. Dolly Parton, godmother to Miley Cyrus.

See the pattern?

These are godparents who are a godsend.

That coveted internship? Leave it to your godfather. An opportunity to get on the catwalk in Milan? Godmother can sort it.

While ordinary people need to network, these kids come fully armed with connections their peers can only dream of.

Should Jude Law’s daughter Iris hope to utilise her good looks, she can turn to godmother Kate Moss.

If Damian Hurley, son of Liz, ventures into acting, he can rely on godfather Hugh Grant to introduce him to a director or two.

Trust me, godfathers like him can break down barriers faster than you can say “Don Corleone”.

Of course being pious is a nice attribute but let’s face it, these days a godparent can serve more purpose than simply reciting the 10 Commandments alongside the ABC.

Look at Cinderella.

Who got her to the ball? Not her good deeds, godly nature and cheerful countenance that’s for sure.

No, it took a wand-waving, toe-twinkling, jewel-bedecked fairy godmother’s special talents to transform the shabbily dressed Disney dame into the babe who got the prince.

Lots of children rank their godparents on the quality and regularity of the presents they receive.

With this in mind, Cinder’s magic mummy must have come top of the list.

But most parents might argue that presence is better than presents.

It’s a tricky one.

My husband and I picked godparents for our kids based on our friendship group.

It was a kind of: “We really like you so here’s this honorary title, which you are at liberty to ignore completely.”

Not a single one of them live close to us so the idea that they are a regular fixture in our children’s lives is next to impossible.

In fact, many did a bunk after the christening and can’t even remember birthdays.

But this is ok.

It’s enough for us to know that these important individuals are connected to our family in some way more enduring than just “mates”.

Having said that, I hope to become a significant part of my own goddaughter’s life as she grows up.

Being asked to be her godparent by my best friend earlier this month was a huge honour.

She is basically trusting me with the most precious thing in her life.

So I intend to take it seriously. Well, seriously but unobtrusively.

I won’t be making unwanted suggestions on her upbringing or sticking my nose into her parent’s childrearing choices.

And unlike her mum and dad, I won’t tell her what to do, what to wear, who to date or make embarrassing speeches on her 21st.

I promise to remember her birthdays, to spoil her rotten at every opportunity and help her in any way I can.

I hope to be a person she looks up to. Someone she can talk to. Someone who, like the fairy, can make magic happen.

Sure, I won’t be able to offer much in the way of religious direction.

The last time I went to church was when I was trying to cheat the primary school system in north London.

But while there may be a lack of “God” in godparents these days, I reckon I can still bring a touch of Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo to the little girl’s life as her guardian angel.

@EllenWiddup