Christmas, for me, lacks a vital ingredient: the gathering together of the family. Our home is far too wee and the miles separating individuals, far too great. Fortunately, we are "close knit" in spirit. I do get a lump in my throat whenever an advert on television depicts a large and noisy family gathering, complete with tree and all the fripperies. At the same time, I also get a larger lump in my throat when I consider the homeless, the lonely and utterly friendless. At the beginning of November, we are blitzed with images of what the retailers and image-makers consider to be necessary luxuries for each and everyone to have a super-duper time - irrespective of cost. As a child in the 40's, Christmas Eve was exciting...to bed early and lots of activity from parents and grandparents downstairs. Early to rise, creeping down stairs to dicover a real tree, under which were colouring and story books, jigsaw puzzles and perhaps a small, pretty doll or humming top, and, year in year out, my Mother's hand-knitted jumper and "tammy" for the wearing of. Boxing Day was spent walking through the woods, wearing the knitted garments. The special treat - a big jug of Tizer and some chocs in the afternoon. The next day, father returned to work. The home was tidied. Christmas was over. Short but sooooo sweet.