Joy. Family. Love. Lights. Stars. Festivity. And yes, all of those, if you’re lucky, and they are happy words, words that give you that fuzzy glow. Others come fast down the track, of course. War. Disasters. Accidents. Distress. Tears.
I am old now so my most familiar Christmas word is ‘memory’, although I live in the present and ‘fun’ is definitely a Christmas word – but ‘funny’? Yet as I have been sitting by the log fire thinking about Christmases past, funny keeps cropping up.
I said, knife poised, that I hoped it wasn’t the steak pie we were about to eat with our cream or custard
One should never laugh at another’s misfortunes, but the first Christmas after the war, I got a third-hand red tricycle, made of what seemed like cast iron. It was sent down on the train from cousins in Sheffield and was a thing of wonder. I was only three and I found it tricky to get the hang of the pedals so Dad got on to show me.
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