A tree for Christmas
Winter I was brought up at Blakeney on the edge of the Royal Forest of Dean, the only daughter of Albert and Lillian Smith, with three younger Smith, with and Graham They all attended the village school. I went to East Dean Grammar School at Cinderford. let were the school holidays and we had a lot of freedom in 1948.
My father had been injured in the local colliery, also he had contracted T B and had spent many months in the isolation hospital at Over. I had seen him only once during that time. The boys had not seen him at all He was home at last for two weeks.
We were busy collecting greenery to decorate our house Ivy, pine branches with cones painted with white wash to look like snow, milestone from our own apple tree in the orchard and holly with few red berries Mum decreed this was to stay in the old back kitchen till Christmas Eve as it was considered unlucky then taken out on Twelfth Night and burned.
We spent evenings making paper chains and lanterns to decorate a tree. There was a problem – we did not have a tree. Mum was a post lady and money were tight. You could buy one from the Forestry Commission but we had no cash. Bernard and my cousin John had an idea,
l knew something was up when my brother who was nine asked Mum if l would go to our toilet and sit on the wall and wait with the torch. I sat there while he told me his daring plan. This was that he and John would climb a fir tree and cut the top off, refused to listen to this hairbrained scheme and went back into the house.
‘Thank you, my love l know you don’t like, going down but those steps are unsafe and you wouldn’t want him to fall, would you?’ Said dad.
I muttered to myself that he would do himself more damage if carried out his stupid plan. The next day cousin John was waiting for me ‘Pat we really need your help to keep watch and hold the wrapping from the band saws We plan to go tonight You can say you are coming up to play cards was so worried as Bern was so young and John was thirteen He also acted head of the house as his dad had died.
At seven prompt we left the house wearing old gaberdine macs with hoods Bern always wore Dad’s wellies ‘Put Mum’s wellies on and hide your shoes under the sack bag with mine, ‘said Bern. He was always very good at planning and old for his years’ We made sure everything was well hidden. ‘l’m scared ‘ l muttered but all l got was a disgusted look.
Taking the band saw from off the wall we set off to meet John who also had a saw and was wearing big wellies. lt was very frosty and our breath puffed out like smoke and the grass crackled beneath us. We bent under the hedge and soon found the trees who were to be decapitated. The first came down easily, the second made a loud crashing noise, and we heard voices We panicked holding the two saws and the wrapping carefully against our bodies, we escaped, Keeping under the tall hedge we ran as fast as possible back home and arrived. Scared and breathless. John got home safely.
ln the back kitchen we rubbed the wellies. dry and put our old daps on. Did you have a good game’? I shook my head and guzzled the hot cocoa from Mum. Mervyn and Graham were in bed so we listened to the radio. As usual warm nightclothes hung over the line. What bliss to wash in front of the fire and jump into them Bern first.
The next morning, we were having breakfast when one of Dad’s mates called by; ‘What’s think Bert some beggars tried to pinch a couple of tree tops last night. Looking at the footprints they must have been grownups ‘. Have you got a tree yet?’. Asked Jack ‘ No can’t really afford one, ‘said Dad. ‘Have this ‘un Bert l gid one to our John.’
Thanks l think my prayers have been answered. I didn’t want the kids to be disappointed.;. Outside Bern was crowing’. ‘See our Pat l told you to wear Mum’s wellies ‘ Well now we have a tree without breaking the law ‘ l snorted HUH lf we waited any longer we would not have a tree at all’ Trust my brother to have the last word.
Pat Gazey
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