Posted in My English Twaddling

…A Christmas Story

[story told by Mrs. Mandy]

1939. One of those years when snow in England would be a very common thing, lots of snow, lots of fun for me and my brothers.Christmas that year was as in every year a very special celebration. Mummy would cook mince pies and turkey roast and after the Christmas dinner we would have cheese and biscuits and a wee bit of mulled wine. I always used to love mulled wine.
But anyway,Boxing Day was one of the best days for us, the children. We would meet up with Santa and receive presents.
I can even now remember Daddy going down to the station to meet up Santa and bring him home. Oh yes, we would invite Santa over for some mince pies and mulled wine. Our little village was a very small one, half way between London and Cambridge ,but of a great importance, since Dad was going down to the station to pick up Santa.
He used to say to us: “I’m going down to the station to bring Santa to have some mince pies with us and give you presents, if he thinks you’ve been good children. His sleigh he has left it in London, so that reindeers can have a good rest ”
I know that two of my cousins were a bit older than i was and they were starting to say to us that Santa didnt reallyexist, that the man who was coming in the house to have mince pies was not the real Santa. They really upset my brothers with that.
That year though, we, the children were all gathered in the fron room, where the Christmas tree was, and our cousins started talking nonsense again.
“Oh, Santa doesnt exist” “Oh, no, he’s not real”

And just then…just that moment, here comes is Santa, through the door that opened towards the garden. He was just as we have seen him before, with his white beard and red clothes and a big white sack on his back.
“Ho,ho,ho, he said… hello Children. What do i hear some of you saying that i dont exist… who is that?? ”

My cousins were so quiet and never had the courage to say anything. With a happy ”ho,ho” and laugther, Santa shared our presies and ate mince pies with us. Since then… our cousins never said that Santa didnt exist anymore…



Oh God, I don't love You, I don't even want to love You, but I want to want to love You! Theresa of Avila

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