Advent Calendar - Day 3 - Money Money Money
Photo © Rob Jones
Three memories of Christmas Past…
It was a ritual. It was fascinating. I fell for it every time. I was 8. My Uncle Jack miraculously stuck his thumb into the Christmas Pudding - and it emerged with a silver sixtence, wrapped in foil. How was he so lucky? Why did I never find a sixpence in my pudding? Basically - he cheated. I think I knew that one year when he pulled out a Ten Shilling Note. Even at that tender age, I knew it simply was not possible to bake a Ten Shilling Note into a pudding. And if you did, it just wouldn’t servive. And even if it was possible, I did not dare eat it. Such money was riches beyond my imagination. How times change.
Waking up on Christmas morning, having been determined the night before to wait up to make absolutely certain that my theory was true that Father Christmas did not exist, and that it was my parents who snuck in at the dead of night and put the pillow cases full of presents at the end of the bed. I never made it. I always fell asleep. So the magic of Christmas was never disproved. There was also a stocking which resolutely contained an orange, mini chocolate bars and a pouch of chocolate money. All snaffled up by sunrise.
Watching the now un-PC arrival of Sinterklaas - Saint Nicholas - Santa Claus arrive in Bruges in Belgium. Being told he keeps a little book of whether you’ve been naughty or nice, and if it’s the former, then you are bundled into a sack and dragged off to Spain where Sinterklaas lives. Doesn’t sound so bad now. I’ll elaborate on Friday - the Dutch Christmas, or one of them at least.
RJ
