I wrote the following for Christmas 2003. To those who read me then, apologies; to those new to my writing here’s the way my Christmas was in 1931
We never had a Christmas tree when I was growing up. In the great depression of the late 1920’s and 1930’s we couldn’t afford one – and there were no evergreen forests near my English industrial-town home from which to steal one.
We had holly, lots of it with bright red berries. We had mistletoe, indignantly avoided until I discovered girls. We had some greenery, poached from a St. Mary’s churchyard Yew trees, and paper decorations galore,hand and homemade to be hung in abundance from kitchen ceiling and every available wall spot from which they could be draped.
The manufacturing of the brightly coloured paper links, cutout bells and small green trees, was a kitchen table project for the long winter nights…
View original post 1,005 more words