Memories from Christmas past

Then there was measles on Christmas Day when I was five or six!

The corner shop at the end of our street used to run a Christmas club for children. I remember seeing a beautiful blue glass scent spray in the window and went in every week to pay my 3d and have it marked off on my card. I was so thrilled when I finished paying for it and carefully carried it home to wrap for my Mum for Christmas.

Urmstongran

Oh maw I should have been worried sick but somehow I knew it would be OK and I felt closer to the real meaning of Christmas than all the razzmatazz and ringing tills around us. that made me well up, it is so poignant. Thank you for sharing.

What a lovely thread Jaffacakes. 😊

My memories tonight are about my dad. His birthday was Christmas Day. Hence the name Noël. Sadly he died aged 47y.

Anyhoo... memories are of him treating himself to special cigars over the Christmas period. In a metal tube, individually. They were fat ones (think Winston Churchill!). He would snip the end off, light and puff, light and puff. Such a wonderful aroma. If ever I smell a really good cigar (rare these days in Urmston hehe!) I think of him. Goodness, what WERE those cigars called? ....

Also he’d open a small drum of beer for when our neighbours would come to party. Hmm. Watney’s keg comes to mind? An 8-pinter I think. Mum would have de Kuypers (sp?) cherry brandy at Christmas. But with the neighbours on party night it would be whisky and dry (ginger) foe all the ladies. With a cherry on a cocktail stick. And a table cigarette lighter (!) for the cocktail cigarettes ... Sobranie (?sp) and Black something or others. Russian comes to mind. Do you remember the ashtrays? One pressed a button thing down and the fag ends and ash disappeared into the holder below the stainless steel tray. Oh I’ve just remembered too (gosh, I’m wittering on here, sorry) ... soda siphons! True sophistication in the late 60’s! And a wooden chess table (my dad was a great aficionado) covered with a lace doily (posh eh?) with ‘nibbles’ aka salted KP peanuts and the Brazil nuts with the nutcracker that only my dad could be bothered to mess about with & deliver!

Paper garlands strung from the corners of the room to the Big Light (Peter Kay moment here!) in the centre of the room, with BALLOONS pinned up in the four corners. Fat oval shapes in jewel colours and thinner sausage shaped ones. (Do those even still exist - I always thought they looked a bit inferior somehow!).

Snacks were cheese cubes with pineapple on cocktail sticks. (Shades of ‘Abigail’s Party’ here!). Music was from the record player - Jim Reeves, Perry Como, Frank Sinatra.

Memories eh?
Happy Times.
Thank you for reading! I’ve enjoyed the recollections very much.
x

You have just summed up all my young Christmas memories so perfectly, even down to the hated sausage balloons! My mother smoked the cocktail cigarettes only at Christmas! My dad had the tubed cigars. We had the spinny ashtray thingy! The cocktail cherries were speared on a red plastic stick with a cockerel on the top!

Such lovely memories.
Christmas was so magical when we were children.

Opened Christmas stocking on waking and then getting ready to go to Grandmas where all the family would gather. It wasn’t a large house but we all squeezed in and stayed the night.
Dad would dress up as Father Christmas , knock on the door and give out the presents under the tree. That knock always made me so excited and nervous. Always sat in mums lap.
The smell of frying bacon woke us on Boxing Day. A walk in the park and back for Cold Turkey buffet, jacket potatoes, pickles and sausages.
More family would arrive in the evening and we played games and danced.
Wonderful!

Best Christmas ever was a bride doll in a big box. The following year I received a teeny tiny tears doll and loved that so much. Seeing my older brothers come home to see me still fills me with joy and happy memories.

Here is a memory of a very special Christmas Day that happened to me over 82 years ago.

A CHRISTMAS DAY MEMORY.

I sit and ponder about a certain Christmas Day many years ago
I remember very plainly of having no home and no place to go.
The year was nineteen forty in the middle of the London Blitz
Jerry pounding us with bombs, he tried hard to break the Brits

We finished up in our air-raid shelter to keep us from the cold
Listening to the bombs dropping down as hell began to unfold.
Christmas was fast approaching but no presents were in sight
It was dangerous for Santa to travel in the war stricken night.

At least that was what I was told by my fourteen-year-old brother!
No stocking put up for a Christmas, just comforting each other.
Christmas Day dawned and the firemen were so tired and weary
This did not deter them, they battled on as they remained cheery.

Along came a water cart at last to get water for a cup of Rosie Lee
How would the British survive without their cup of cheering tea?
We managed to have a quick wash to greet that Christmas morning
In case we were bombed again and had to heed the air-raid warning.

But it remained quiet, a deathly hush that seemed to envelop us all
A Christmas Day that remained in my memory that I can well recall.
It was like sitting on the edge of a volcano just waiting for it to erupt
Suddenly the sound of voices was heard the silence it did interrupt.

A radio was playing and the choristers were singing a rousing song
Many joined in the chorus as the voices made us all feel strong.
For those who have never witnessed a moving scene such as this
I thank the Lord! It was something that I would not have missed

I have never had that feeling of awe since that fateful day long ago
A kindred spirit amid a city razed that brought forth a certain glow
Of pride and joy that existed for a short time as we all started to sing
A song called “Santa Claus is coming to town” with voices in full swing

Its well over 82 yrs since that awesome day, I give thanks I am still alive
I very often wonder how through all that hell we managed to survive.
I hope and pray it will never happen again to any future generations
And may everyone be thankful as they enjoy their happy celebrations.

copyright---Maisie Walker -- all rights reserved.

Christmas Eve when I was twelve or thirteen: four of us, my mother, me, my best school friend, and his mother (two single parent families). Harrods had not delivered, and time was running out. Friend and I tubed up from East London to Knightsbridge, collected the order, and got back in time to see the Harrods van outside the house.

I’ve just asked Himself about my dad’s cigars.
They were ‘King Edwards’.
Like the potatoes 🤣 Not.

Oh maw I should have been worried sick but somehow I knew it would be OK and I felt closer to the real meaning of Christmas than all the razzmatazz and ringing tills around us. that made me well up, it is so poignant. Thank you for sharing.

What a lovely thread Jaffacakes. 😊

My memories tonight are about my dad. His birthday was Christmas Day. Hence the name Noël. Sadly he died aged 47y.

Anyhoo... memories are of him treating himself to special cigars over the Christmas period. In a metal tube, individually. They were fat ones (think Winston Churchill!). He would snip the end off, light and puff, light and puff. Such a wonderful aroma. If ever I smell a really good cigar (rare these days in Urmston hehe!) I think of him. Goodness, what WERE those cigars called? ....

Also he’d open a small drum of beer for when our neighbours would come to party. Hmm. Watney’s keg comes to mind? An 8-pinter I think. Mum would have de Kuypers (sp?) cherry brandy at Christmas. But with the neighbours on party night it would be whisky and dry (ginger) foe all the ladies. With a cherry on a cocktail stick. And a table cigarette lighter (!) for the cocktail cigarettes ... Sobranie (?sp) and Black something or others. Russian comes to mind. Do you remember the ashtrays? One pressed a button thing down and the fag ends and ash disappeared into the holder below the stainless steel tray. Oh I’ve just remembered too (gosh, I’m wittering on here, sorry) ... soda siphons! True sophistication in the late 60’s! And a wooden chess table (my dad was a great aficionado) covered with a lace doily (posh eh?) with ‘nibbles’ aka salted KP peanuts and the Brazil nuts with the nutcracker that only my dad could be bothered to mess about with & deliver!

Paper garlands strung from the corners of the room to the Big Light (Peter Kay moment here!) in the centre of the room, with BALLOONS pinned up in the four corners. Fat oval shapes in jewel colours and thinner sausage shaped ones. (Do those even still exist - I always thought they looked a bit inferior somehow!).

Snacks were cheese cubes with pineapple on cocktail sticks. (Shades of ‘Abigail’s Party’ here!). Music was from the record player - Jim Reeves, Perry Como, Frank Sinatra.

Memories eh?
Happy Times.
Thank you for reading! I’ve enjoyed the recollections very much.
x

I remember the milkman bringing a catalogue of Christmas Fayre and amongst all the stuff was tinned Tunis cake. Anybody else remember that?

Mum never bought anything from the catalogue but we enjoyed looking through it.

LynW

What some great memories- lovely thread! Thanks for starting Jaffacake2. I’d forgotten about Tunis cakes, we always used to have one as well as Christmas Cake. In fact when we were young women and had left home, each year for some years Mum used to buy each of us a Tunis cake - even then they weren’t a patch on the original ones, far less chocolate and a bit synthetic, but we loved the idea of carrying on the tradition. In fact I’m going to see if you can still get Tunis cake.

I hadn't heard of Tunis cakes so looked them up, they sound delicious.. my mum used to make a chocolate log which sounds similar but with raspberry jam filling

I started this thread with memories of childhood Christmas and it has been lovely reading all the stories you have all shared.
I thought I would share another. When I was 18 I spent my first Christmas day away from the family as a student nurse in a children's hospital. I was assigned a toddler who had whooping cough who was nursed in a side room as infectious. Father Christmas came round to give all the children in the wards presents. He was the most gorgeous doctor who made my heart flutter ! He came and gave my little patient a toy cuddly penguin,looked into my eyes and said Happy Christmas nurse. At that exact moment the toddler sitting on my lap coughed and vomited everywhere ! My Christmas romance never started !!

RosiesMaw a bet it was fantastic!😊

lemsip

remember my father carrying in the christmas pudding lit up with brandy

I still always flame our puds with 50/50 brandy and vodka. A little bit of holly on top, and I get someone to turn the lights out before taking it to the table.
In this house it’s not Christmas without a flaming pudding!

You’ve got me thinking now - prepare to be bored!
One of my best Christmases was ironically when DH had been diagnosed with Lymphoma following emergency surgery for a perforated bowel back in 2008.
So far, so bad.
Because he was a Transplant patient of the Royal Free in London he was transferred to them which although it meant trekking up and down every day was a relief as I had confidence in them. Christmas was clearly cancelled, dog went into kennels but the “good” news was that DH was suitable for immunotherapy and the hospital were very confident.
It was unclear right up to C Eve whether he would be allowed out for Christmas. He wasn’t, so I packed up a venison casserole from the freezer and drove down to D3 who was in a flat in Hackney to stay with her. D2 didn’t stay, but lived in a flat not too far away and on C Day we all took smoked salmon sandwiches over to DH in hospital where it was surprisingly jolly (mostly because we were optimistic) then back to the flat for the venison casserole.
He was allowed to come home on the day after Boxing Day with his immunotherapy starting in January.
I should have been worried sick but somehow I knew it would be OK and I felt closer to the real meaning of Christmas than all the razzmatazz and ringing tills around us.

We had many a good Christmas but only because my Mum was a great budgeter and made everything herself, cakes, mincepies, sausage rolls, trifle, stuffing etc and Dad grew all our veggies. They literally had to watch every penny. The only luxuries were maybe a bowl of monkey nuts and brazils and Dad always made some homemade toffee but with Mum being a great cook the food was wonderful!

We had the tiniest artificial tree which stood on a side table and was quite sparse but with a few decorations on it looked pretty. We were sent out to search for holly with berries to decorate the mantlepiece and pictures.

One year my Dad made me a dolls cot and painted it pale blue. It was only from rough wood he had in the shed but Mum sewed me a pillow, a quilt and sheets and it made me happy.

I vividly remember standing next to my Mum at the sink helping her peel veg and a steady stream of people were going into the house opposite with boxes of veg, fresh chicken, bags of fruit, wrapped gifts etc. I asked my Mum why people were taking all that lovely stuff there and she said because the Mother was a great one for pleading poverty around the village.
I said we should do that and her face was a picture!! Both the parents were heavy smokers and drinkers and I don’t think the Father ever worked although the Mum did a bit of cleaning work.

Boxing Day we either went to my Aunt and Uncle’s house or they came to ours for tea. They had kids our age which was nice. I do remember the winters were much colder then and we were usually slipping and sliding on our walk there.

This isn’t my memory, but nearly 30 years ago, DD2 was probably going to spend Christmas in hospital, following a sort of stoke.
At the last minute, we were told she could come home for a few days, if we moved her bed downstairs.
DH and I rushed back home to arrange things and on the way passed a farm selling Christmas trees - only enormous ones left - but we put the seats down and pushed it into his car.
I should add the DH didn’t have a DIY bone in his body, so I really shouldn’t have been surprised that instead of sawing the bottom off the tree, he sawed the top off!! I have a picture somewhere of DD2 sitting alongside the tree, which ended up just resembling a green ball!

My memories are of magical Christmas Eves.
Mum was German and followed the German customs (while doing a Scottish Christmas on Christmas Day)
The sitting room was off limits in the days before, while she decorated the tree- full size, lametta and real candles- and on the evening of C Eve she would ring a little bell and my sister Fiona and I would creep through into a darkened room, lit only by the tree candles with our father playing Stille Nacht on the piano.
Christmas Day with my (teetotal) Scottish grandparents to lunch was pretty boring by comparison. Mum used to keep a "bottle of something " in the kitchen for Dad who would rush through to help at frequent intervals and have a wee dram, as only lemonade was served at the table!

Thisismyname1953 I too remember the grotto at Blackers store, it was magical. I loved walking through and delighting in the various scenes.
Granny23 what a lovely thing your father did! My father was a real Scrooge and gave Christmas a miss. He went to bed for the whole day, but my mother made a nice Christmas for us.

Unusually, our presents were laid out for us unwrapped in the living room on chairs, we children all had our own chair.
The only thing my father contributed were children’s annuals as he worked for W.H.Smith and either got them free or at a knock down price.
I loved wandering the terraced streets and looking at all the trees lit in the windows. It’s such a magical time even with little money.

remember my father carrying in the christmas pudding lit up with brandy

Lovely time reading through this thread, so many magical times x

A favourite present when I was 10, was the School Friend Pets Annual - I was animal-mad.

Was delighted some years ago to find the exact same book - 1959 - in a 2nd hand bookshop!

My uncle took us to a big city for Christmas shopping when I was about 5.
They took me to see Santa in Fenwicks,the queue was so long my uncle offered to stand with me whilst the women went shopping.
When my turn came I must have asked for a few things. Santa said, "I'm sure Santa and your daddy will manage that", and I said "That's not my daddy that's Uncle Joe", the place erupted as it implied he was my mum's fancyman, just as the family appeared near the Grotto.
To top it all my uncle got lost going home and we ended up on a Quay side nearly in the water.

What some great memories- lovely thread! Thanks for starting Jaffacake2. I’d forgotten about Tunis cakes, we always used to have one as well as Christmas Cake. In fact when we were young women and had left home, each year for some years Mum used to buy each of us a Tunis cake - even then they weren’t a patch on the original ones, far less chocolate and a bit synthetic, but we loved the idea of carrying on the tradition. In fact I’m going to see if you can still get Tunis cake.

My Mum had our house decorated to the hilt. Rather like walking into a magic cave. Wonderful. We did something less elaborate but equally exciting. Nowadays I don't do a single decoration but I do love Christmas. I leave the adornments to my sons and their families.