As Christmas rolls around again, and it always does, we remember those Christmases we enjoyed so much as kids.
The first Christmas I remember is 1961. I was the ripe old age of four (almost five). I live in a small house in Summerhouse, County Durham with my mother. In fact it is the house below.
This photograph was taken in June this year, when I visited Summerhouse for the first time in fifty (yes 50) years.
The house hasn’t changed much.
I was so proud of my brother. Everyone told me how handsome he was. He used to fly his aeroplane over our house.
Summerouse was a beautiful village, but we were the ‘misfits’. My mother was divorced you see, and in 1961, that made you a bit of a misfit.
We never had much money and my mother struggled to keep food on the table, but, we had a good Christmas in spite of that. Our dinner was roast chicken and stuffing and home-made Christmas pudding. My mother saved up her ‘co-op’ stamps and bought me a swing set for the garden and some green plastic roller skates. I felt very lucky.
Christmas is special for many reasons, and we should never forget our past. What we enjoyed, or suffered as children, makes us who we are now. Lets make sure we remember those who helped us become who we are, especially at Christmas.
To read about my mother and I download this free e-book from Amazon.