We’ve joined a Facebook group from our old town where we lived. It’s something like Thornton Cleveleys Chat. It’s so nice to be able to keep up with places and people from your past. It brings lots of memories back and today’s blog is about Christmas Past.
As I remember it eleven years ago, there didn’t seem to be much community spirit, but it looks like that’s changing. Groups are being set up about the history of the place, after all it is mentioned in the Domesday book. People are trying to make the phoenix rise from the ashes as it were, trying to get people to come together and do something for the town instead of just talking about it. That’s pretty much what we and several other people are trying to do for our town of Cleveleys. It’s no good talking the talk and airing your opinions on Facebook, you have to walk the walk!
Anyway, we were reading about our old town’s plans for Christmas, which sound really good, especially as not much happened at all when we lived there. Jane commented on how many events take place here on the Fylde Coast all through the year. Living here is just like our old town used to be until the modern ways got hold of it.
We used to have parades with Queens and all the thing that went off in the old days, but they’d stopped a long time before we left. It’s lovely to be here and see so many people getting such a lot out of the efforts they make.
..and Christmas Past
Talking about Christmas made me think about when I was child and how I loved that time of year. Like many other people in those hundreds of years ago, money wasn’t plentiful in our house. You got new clothes and shoes when you needed them and the same went for ‘extras’ like presents. Birthday and Christmas were my favourite times because then I got a toy or whatever. Believe me, we appreciated having something that we never got the rest of the year.
One highlight of childhood Christmas for me, was going to our nearby town to join the crowds lining the streets to welcome Father Christmas as he went through the town on his Santa sleigh. I can feel the emotion I had, even now. With wide, childlike eyes I stared at this wonderful sleigh. I suppose now that I’m a little bit older (don’t laugh too much) his sleigh must have been mounted on a lorry or something. Of course he hadn’t dropped from the sky with his reindeer. Either that or he was a very clever man!
Ho, Ho, Ho…
Oh the sight of this wonderment. This old man with his white beard, red suit and rosy cheeks was a wonder to behold. His sack full of presents and elves that had made them, it was all there. Then he went to our local department store where my mum would take me to see him in person.
Oh the joy of this old man as I shyly told him what I would like for Christmas. Of course there was a present from him and again the surprise of a toy when it wasn’t an occasion was so wonderful to me. I certainly was a happy little girl, who had proved that there was a Father Christmas.
Of course as I got older, school friends started casting doubt on the reality of this magical man. But I knew better because I had a letter sent to me from the great man himself and posted from Greenland! How about that for proving there was such a man who could manage to fly through the skies with his reindeer. Over the rooftops he came, loaded up with presents for children who had been good.
Santa only visits good children
How I was blackmailed into being a good girl. The times my mum said I had to be good or he would pass our house, so of course, guess who was exceptionally good, yes me!
The letter I got from the man himself was a long letter. Asking if I’d been good, and all about his workshop in Greenland. There were even reindeer hoof-prints on the paper, along with a picture of Father Christmas himself. So of course, he did exist. I took it to school to show everyone that he must be alive as I had a letter to prove it! Oh the naivety of our childhood.
That’s one thing about the past. No one can take our memories from us can they. What magical times they were, with the excitement mounting up and then Christmas Eve when you couldn’t get a wink of sleep because of this ‘thing’ bubbling away inside at the thoughts of getting presents. There was nothing like it.
As old as I am, I can still feel the joy I felt when my brother woke me. It was usually at 1.30am, saying ‘come on nip he’s been’. That was after he’d been downstairs first to open my presents to make sure I hadn’t got more than him! That was probably because we didn’t get much the rest of the year. Ah well, he’s also long gone now, and just another memory.
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