During my weekly shopping trip, coming up towards Christmas
and noticing the trolleys packed high with goodies, I cast my mind back to the
days of food rationing. And how we all survived on the small amounts of food
we were allowed, also how we managed to clothe ourselves with help of the clothing
coupons and hand-me-downs from others.
As a child I remember my mam washing our underwear and drying
it on the fireguard. We thought it was normal to have criss-cross scorch marks
on our vests! Dad used to make us clogs out of old shoes. They were hard wearing,
but sometimes used to make us limp if he’d knocked a nail in at the wrong
angle.
The 1940 Christmas blitz shattered our home and our lives.
My main concern was how would Father Christmas know where we were, so he could
deliver our toys? However, we managed.
An Auntie who lived in Droylsden (very posh in those days)
took us in for the Christmas Season.
Soon after we children were evacuated, we all walked along
singing “Its a long way to Tipperary” and “Pack up all your troubles
in your old kit bag”. I guess that’s what we did. There were no counsellors,
no shoulders to cry on, we were all in the same boat. I wonder how would we
cope nowadays, if for some reason we were whisked back in time to 1940?
However like everyone else, I’ll be going round
the shops filling my trolley, like there’s no tomorrow but I’ll always
remember my Christmas as a seven year old.
Marie Pandolfo
