One of our readers, Donald House, a resident at Stoke Gifford Retirement Village, recently sent us this wonderful poem. We enjoyed reading his childhood memories of Christmas so much that we thought we’d share it here for you all to enjoy too! So, here it is (though a slightly shortened version). Thank you, Donald, for sharing your brilliant writing with us again.
My Childhood Memories of Our Christmas Season, 80 years ago
By Donald House
Yes! It seemed that it was only yesterday, that my “big sister” and “little me”
got very excited to decorate our very old, dusty Christmas tree!
But, let me first tell you my storage about those things us naughty kids did, all those years ago.
With sweet anticipation we looked forward to our Christmas season, our presents and our snow.
Our Christmas season for me and my sister, living with Mum and Dad at number 22,
(near Ernie the milkman’s widow lady friend, who we all knew as Sue)
We sorted out the pretty dusty baubles, Christmas tree lights, some shiny tinsel and of course the little fairy too,
together with a well-worn Father Christmas, who now only had one shoe!
We then strung streamers from the corner ceiling of the lounge, to the central light,
hanging strands of tinsel on the streamers, until Dad said it was exactly right.
In due course, Christmas Eve did eventually arrive,
we put a snack out for Santa – yes, that tradition we had to keep alive!
It was tradition that to midnight mass we would often go,
as long as it was not foggy or there was too much icy snow.
Sometimes we would be lucky and the view out of our backyard,
would be pretty, just like a very traditional, scenic Christmas card.
But at other times it looked quite grotty, when it didn’t snow,
as we peered through the mist or rain, at our dirty backyard below.
In due course, in the morning, about eight or nine,
our parents would call out to us in bed, shouting “It’s time, it’s time!”
Time to wake up and across the landing we would trundle,
with presents in our pillowcases, in a big, bulging bundle.
In our pyjamas we would climb into bed with Mum and Dad, top to toe,
to open presents when the green light was given (the green light to go!)
Mum then spent Christmas morning preparing lunch, whilst drinking sherry,
the smell of roast and the sips of drink made Mum and Dad quite merry!
At two o’clock precisely, we were called to the lunch table,
to eat a generous portion of chicken, roast and veg – we ate what we were able.
After we had eaten, Christmas pudding came along,
our mother really deserved to be presented with a royal gong.
By three o’clock Dad was exhausted, after watching the news,
it was not surprising really, as he was so full of food and booze!
Meanwhile, Mum and us kids, together with a neighbour or friend, or two,
would play games of “snap” or “charades”, even if we didn’t really want to.
Boxing Day was very much the same, with Mum doing most of the work,
while Dad went down to the boozer, so the household work he could shirk!
I hope you have enjoyed this, my own reminiscing,
perhaps it reminds you of your own memories at home, which you may sadly be missing.
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