CHRISTMAS MEMORIES
Funny, isn’t it, what we do with memories.
We bring them to mind, toss them around,
snip a little here and there, polish up the bits that need brightening then
present them to ourselves and others as genuine revelations. Or, then again,
perhaps it’s just me that does that.
Not only do I do this with my
memories but it seems I also do it with the memories of others. Take this blog for example. So many of the things that I write about come
from the recollections of someone else. A
notable memory prodder for me has been LS.
She seems to have been completely involved in the life and lives of our
Covey. Whereas, I, seem to have either
been absent or have made amnesiac snips of entire memories. Take the one she mentioned recently about her
Christmas wish for a satchel. I have no recall whatsoever of these events.
As much as
she wanted this prized item, she knew that the likelihood of Santa, the Tooth
Fairy or any other mystical being bringing this to her was extremely
remote. Despite her prayers, her straight forward
requests and outright begging, she knew, in no uncertain terms that
there was no money for such a useless item.
Better forget it and get on with living.
And living is what it’s all
about. Christmas was very close so there
were lots of preparations, even for a poor family. Mum had things to do and places to go, so she
got on her bicycle with the plan that any shopping could be carried home by LS
who accompanied her by running beside.
That’s when destiny intervened.
Mum nearly fell off her bike!
There in the window of the local Sweet Shop was a large notice: “WE HAVE CHOCOLATE” it exclaimed in large letters.
Amazing, fantastic, wonderful! It
had been years since anyone had seen chocolate for sale and here was a sign proclaiming,
they had it!
That was it, Mum bought three
small Cadbury bars and gave them to LS with the instructions to quickly get them to the
boys (LB & LLB) who were waiting at home. In the meantime, she would
continue with her errands.
The chocolate excitement having
now been transmitted to LS, she grasps her precious cargo and runs as fast as her legs will pump towards home. That is, she runs
until she can’t run any further because she tripped and smashed her head
against a low coping wall. (For those who don’t know: Coping is a covering of stone, concrete, brick or terracotta,
placed on exposed top of a wall, to prevent seepage of water.)
Around this point in the story,
LS’s memory gets a bit foggy, probably because she had passed out from a
concussion. A kindly neighbour picked
her up and took her home and waited with her until Mum returned from her
errands. Mum being mum, doesn’t know
what to do with a child that has a bump as large as an egg growing on her
forehead, so she follows the old adage: “When in doubt, leave it out”. There it was left until Dad took charge when he
returned from work.
He knew it was hospital
time. But, unlike here and now, there
was no car for transportation, and ambulances were for life threatening
accidents only. That meant a steady walk
up hill to the tram stop, then a tram ride to the hospital in Central London. Eventually, they reach the hospital where LS
was cared for. Dad and she returned home. Her head was bandaged and Christmas
day came, just as it always does. And
it came with a special surprise: A
shiny new satchel for LS!
Makes you want to believe in the
miracle of Christmas, doesn’t it!
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