Francis Gay

The wonder of Christmas doesn’t fade as we get older

Laurence is a story-teller. Once a week, he reads short stories and poetry in his local care home.

Then they discuss them. Due to “unexpected circumstances”, he took two weeks off recently. He was warmly welcomed back but when he started reading, his voice choked and the tears started to flow.

He apologised and told his concerned listeners that he had buried his father a few days before. They were very sympathetic and Laurence was appreciative, but he did feel sorry that he was ending what was supposed to be a pleasant event on a depressing note. He began to gather up his notes to leave. Then, one of his listeners sat him back down. “Tell us a story,” she said. “Tell us a story about your father.” So, he did. Several stories. Others contributed tales of their parents. And it turned out to be the best session they have ever had.

She told me her son was working and had asked if she might take his dog for a walk.

“And, did you?” I asked. “Yes, I went,” she told me. “But, no, we didn’t go for a walk.” She told me her son had brought the dog home from a rescue centre six months before. It had, apparently, been mistreated before. The first two months were difficult but the dog had settled down. This day, despite knowing its new “master’s” mother very well, it had refused to leave the garden with her. I asked why. “Who can say?” she replied. “I tried offering treats. But I think he’s just resisting leaving his new home because he associates the outside world with unkindness and he associates his new home – and my son – with love.” Which is sad. But isn’t it a wonderful thing, to – finally – have a home you wouldn’t leave for anything?”

I was talking to John about Christmas shopping. It was, of course, lastminute Christmas shopping! He was just about organised.

“But, do you know what I can’t find anywhere?” he asked. “That same Christmassy feeling I had when I was a child. The wonder. The excitement.” He sighed and shrugged. “Maybe I’m just too old.” I assured him he wasn’t and I told him that the “Christmassy feeling” as he called it, was still here. It’s just... when we were children our parents, teachers and grandparents made that feeling for us. They brought it to life in us.

It doesn’t go away because we get older. Those people – sadly – go away, and it’s left to us to create it anew in the hearts of our own children and grandchildren.

Done properly (with love), it’s as wonderful to watch as it was to experience it ourselves all those years ago.

I was sitting in on a writing group.

One group member asked another if she could look up from the page when she read because it would help him make out what she was saying.

Another said: “Oh, is that why you always turn towards the tutor when you’re reading, because you communicate face-to-face?” Someone else, realising what was going on, told about how he had started lip-reading even before he knew he was losing his hearing. It turned out that a third of the group had hearing issues or wore discreet hearing aids. Some had been coming to the group for years and had never mentioned it. “Have any of you ever written about it?” I asked.

“Who would be interested in that?” someone asked. And I waved at the other two-thirds of the group, sitting in engrossed silence. “Us, for a start,” I said. Deafness. It’s a story worth listening to!

Stars sparkle in the dark night.

Lights twinkle on their trees. Christmastime it beckons, wrapped gifts then gently tease.

For people’s hearts are golden, bringing cheer because they care.

But nothing’s more important, than that love they truly share

WRITE TO:

Francis Gay, The Sunday Post, Speirs View, 50 High Craighall Road, Glasgow G4 9UD or

EMAIL: francisgay@sundaypost.com