Christmases Past and Christmas Present.

In my long life I observe many changes at Christmastime. As a small child, I remember Father Christmas trudging up the garden path to deliver a sack of presents to me and my sisters . . . with me asking my mother where my father was! I remember staring in wonder at the pre-war glass baubles on a huge tree. I still have some of the baubles wrapped in tissue paper but no longer hang them on a real tree. I still give pride of place to an artificial tree about 15 inches high, which was bought for my very first Christmas, and has passed down to me through the years. My parents and sisters have gone on but friends remain and so does the love and the wonder of the Great Story.

As a teenager and young adult I remember carol singing in neighbouring streets on cold nights, stamping my feet to keep them warm. Do you remember having chilblains? For years after, I remember singing in churches lit by candles and redolent with greenery and poinsettias. I remember the Christmas Eve parties we had for neighbours and the quiet heartbreak of those whose childhood Christmases were not given over to love.

I remember writing Christmas stories, year after year. Now as I write yet another story, I think of the loneliness that older people can experience at this time of year.

Yet love remains. Some gifts are paid for in cash, but many others come from the heart and are given with love. We give a smile here and a cup of coffee or a meal there. We ask how our neighbour is, and listen with care and attention to their reply. Let no one be alone and sad.

                             The next book . . .

Hurray, it’s finished! I waded through the copy editing and then the first proofs and don’t think there’s any more queries. Severn House have decided to change their covers and their new ones are lighter and brighter. I’ll send you a copy when the book is ready for sale. And now the manuscript is to be handed over to the printers and that’s my part done. This is the fourth story about Bea Abbot and the consequences of her taking in a rough sleeper who turns out to have inherited a rundown Stately Home and a multitude of problems. I must say both Bea and Piers have outdone themselves in this story. It’s due out next spring . . . more details in due course.  

                       The next short story . . .

is about someone facing a difficult Christmas and dealing with unexpected problems rather well. It’s called Louise’s Christmas and you can find it here.

A blessing on those who find time amid the Christmas rush, to think about the message of the Nativity . . . and remember people they know who may be alone and sad at this time of year.    

Veronica Heley