Many years ago, I taught a child who was deaf. No one knew he was deaf, not even his parents, so we all acted as though he could hear. If you've ever put your fingers in your ears and tried to have a conversation with someone, that's what it's like to be deaf. If they're … Continue reading Behind every story…
Tag: Christmas
Finding Christmas
“I don’t want to be here!” Fighting back tears, I swung the car into a space beside our apartment building, “There’s no Christmas here…” The narrow Ankara street echoed with the cries of bread sellers, goats and children. Some of them lifted their heads and eyed us with interest. It was cold. As I unloaded … Continue reading Finding Christmas
The Street
Christmas came early that year but the street didn't mind, stretching out joyous arms in welcome. It began in October when shops shrugged off their orange clothes for Remembrance Red. The street approved. It liked its small-town displays of poppies. November brought frost and incipient hope. The shops were lit with tinsel and coloured lights. … Continue reading The Street
Christmas lights
I've always wanted twinkly trees but in London we didn't have trees to twink. So when we moved to this house in Sussex, the fruit trees by the front door filled me with quiet joy. At Christmas, we would have twists of tiny lights and their delicate glow would lift the hearts of passers-by with … Continue reading Christmas lights
Look up
Dad loved Christmas. His eyes would go all shiny and bright as he recounted stories of his youth, how he and his brothers would choose a Christmas tree, cut it down and drag it home by sledge through the snow. We never knew how true this actually was. As with many of Dad's stories, it … Continue reading Look up
We are Christmas
And so it begins: the slow slide becomes a headlong rush into festive full-on. I'm not ready. I'm cross with Christmas this year. I want to grab it by the baubles and tell it what I really think. About Dad not being here, and a friend having a heart attack and a mate being in … Continue reading We are Christmas
Bad Wrapping and the Gift of Hope
Sad fact - people have no inclination to open presents I've wrapped. This is because, instead of tantalising hints at treasure within, they give off an aura of utter tat, fallen from the back of a lorry or bought at a White Elephant stall. I tell myself it's because I'm a "rip it off" person. … Continue reading Bad Wrapping and the Gift of Hope
One Moment One Christmas
It feels like it happened yesterday. Though in fact it's fifty Christmases since we were in our little house by the sea. Funny how the intense impressions of youth are saved forever on your hard-drive, whereas why you came to the Post Office remains a mystery. The kind Indian man has eyes that twinkle as … Continue reading One Moment One Christmas
Prayer, Advent and Latin Verbs
Call me sad but I loved Latin verbs. At an all-girls school, stuffed with hormones and self-obsession (I levelled out but have recently declined again - for obvious reasons), Latin verbs were immensely comforting. Like the shipping forecast , there was a predictability, a rhythmic quality to the conjugations that soothed you, suspended time and … Continue reading Prayer, Advent and Latin Verbs
Advent, sheep and a kiss from a stranger
It's been a strange week. I'm on my way home from work after what is called a challenging day. It's a fitting end really; that is to say, there is darkness, traffic, and rain-galloping cats and dogs. And the lower lid of my right eye keeps doing this thing where it moves without my help. Like … Continue reading Advent, sheep and a kiss from a stranger









