Do you remember, when you were a little kid In November and December, Christmas affected everything you did? You did whatever you were asked to do by your Mum. Because if you didn’t, she’d say, “Santa mightn’t come”. And though by now, you’d solved the Santa plot You went along with it, just in case you really were forgot.
Our Christmas trees were really nothing very smart, A branch of fruit tree, or tea tree bush was enough to fill the part, Stuck in an old bucket, with bricks to hold it plumb, Decorated with whatever things that just happened to come, Streamers of recycled crepe paper on which we spent many an hour, Chinese lanterns, looped chains, stuck with paste made from flour.
We saved all our pennies to buy presents for Dad and Mum, Doing jobs, selling bottles and old papers to add to our princely sum. Mum got a couple of hankies, Dad some shaving soap, And something for our siblings was their only hope. Now thinking back, was that when I started believing That giving was more rewarding than receiving.
The night before Christmas, there was a job with which Dad was stuck. He had to catch, behead and pluck the fatted duck. We only had an ice chest, so he couldn’t do it before, We kids watched in wonder as the laundry filled with feathers, from ceiling to the floor. But at last the job was finished, Dad had done his duty, He presented it to Mum, who declared, “It really looks a beauty”.
The above was written by a regular reader who is an acquaintance of mine., Who often puts pen to paper to make a story rhyme. So thank you Doug Worsley of Northmead for this little tale Of Christmases past which you did so well – Ivor Jones
Do you have a Christmas story to tell or any other memories and old photos you would like to share with our readers?