1950’s Christmas
Having read the stories of Swubird and found them so interesting and heartwarming, It inspired me to write about some of my childhood experiences, growing up in the 50’s in London. It will be a series of blogs that will last for as long my memory allows :O) I will include photos wherever I can.
This is a photo of my family in the early 50’s. I had six siblings - four sister and two brothers. The tall chap at the back is my eldest sister’s fiancé. Me? I’m the little one on the left of the photo and second to youngest.
Mum & Dad in the late 50’s
As WW2 had only been over a relatively short while, we were still recovering as a country, and things were scarce. Various items were still rationed and we used books of coupons that you tore out and handed in before you could buy certain items of food. As we were a large family, mum would swap the ‘luxury item’ coupons with friends, for the more basic food coupons so there was enough to go around. They were tough times for most people.
Part 1
Christmas in our house in the early 50’s
The smell was unique, it hung around the house for many days leading up to this exciting and magical time. Each day would be filled with more anticipation than the previous day until we were almost bursting. It was Christmas in our house. The smell! I couldn’t say what made Christmas smell so different, but it did.
We had all sent our letters off to Father Christmas. We wrote them out on pieces of paper, folded them up and mum helped us to send them up the chimney. The sparks that flew up the chimney when the fire was disturbed were the fairies that carried our letters up to father Christmas. What had we asked for? Not a lot. We didn’t have a lot and we didn’t ask for a lot either. Maybe a doll, some coloured pencils, a car for the boys. Small things were enough. The magical time was what was important, not so much what we got.
Christmas Eve upon us, us youngest five were ushered to bed, buzzing with excitement and anticipation for what the morning would bring. Once we had reached that ‘Not quite asleep but almost’ stage, dad would creep up into our bedroom dressed as Santa to say hello and ask if we’d been good. We never guessed it was dad! By 6am (the latest) we would all be clambering down the stairs knowing that something really magical had taken place whist we had been sleeping.
On entering the room we would see a row of stockings all weirdly out of shape due to the various presents stuffed inside – books, coloured pencils, sweets, dolls, cars, spinning tops, colouring books and all sorts of little gifts. The familiar fruit that always stuffed the toe of each stocking, nuts, an apple and an orange. That smell, even stronger now, filled the room! Us girls bubbling over with anticipation, eyes skimming around the room, looking for our very special present that came every year. There they were, all hanging in a row. Pretty party dresses, each different, with our names pinned on to our very own dress! I can’t remember what the boys got in place of the dresses. Our glee as we all took our dress and examined it, holding it up to our bodies and twirling in excitement at what we were to wear later.
Then the frenzied attack at our stockings! Mum and dad looked on with such love and who knows what else in there hearts, as we shrieked with pleasure at everything we got. Each one of us rushing to them with every item saying “Look what I got!” Mum and dad looking very interested as if each gift was a surprise to them too.
Mum and dad, who had only been in bed for about one hour when we rushed into their bedroom, waking them up to come and join in our excitement. Mum, who had sat night after night making those pretty dresses for us and dad who had worked and worried so hard to get all the little presents for us. We believed everything was from Father Christmas, therefore mum and dad never got our thanks, just immeasurable satisfaction from watching us and knowing that all their hard work had been worth it!
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Swubird | 8 March 2008 at 6:20
beetle:
Such a wonderful heartfelt story. And well written too. It reminds me of my years at home. Out family wasn’t nearly as large as yours, but our parents would sneak around and hide a few presents for my sister and me to find. It was wonderful. One year I found a brand new bicycle behind the dresser in their bedroom. It was so exciting.
THis is really going to be a very nice blog. I will start a blogroll on my seniors site and I will also add you to my blogroll on my Swubird’s Nest site. You should visit my Swubird site. That’s where I have most of my autobiographical stories.
Anyway, beetle, have a very nice day.
granny grimble | 8 March 2008 at 11:05
I believe that Arthur and I were married when this photograph was taken, which makes it at least 57 years old… Wow! It will be interesting to know what you remember of our family life in the 50’s Babs, you were so young at the time. What a wonderul cosy, loving and secure family we were, in spite of very hard times that we knew nothing about! We were so blessed to have such wonderful parents.
Sindie | 8 March 2008 at 12:21
Aaaaw stop it, you’re making me cry!This is how i wish Christmas was now. :0( One very interesting thing is that you burnt your letters to Father Christmas just as i did with my children. I never knew that was something Gran did with you all! I’d say that the fairies were up the chimney catching the smoke and soot in a net and when they delivered it to Father Christmas he would magic it whole again! :0)
weechuff | 8 March 2008 at 15:20
Ah, this really choked me up and brought the memories flooding back. Mum and dad must have worked so hard all year round, just to ensure we had a fairytale Christmas. She had to wait until we were all fast asleep before getting her machine out and starting on the dresses. And this after she had spent many an hour rummaging round shops and probably market stalls to get the material and trimmings. Even after we were all grown up and married, mum still bought petticoats and nighties for us, trimming them up with the laces that she had bought especially. I wish she were here now so that we could all spoil her.
Spider | 8 March 2008 at 23:37
Babs I am sooo going to enjoy this blog, if I can see it through the tears of gratitude to our dear Mum and Dad. What wonderful memories. I cannot wait to get the next blog.
Thank you so much for this beautifully written piece of memory lane.
I too wish Mum and Dad were here to spoil and to tell them how we do appreciate every little thing they did for their large hungry brood.
Tiny one (Mums little spider :O)
Spider | 8 March 2008 at 23:39
Leeta, I am 64 come April and I think I was a very tiny seven or so in that photo so you are correct at 57 years ago :O)
Tina
granny grimble | 9 March 2008 at 0:56
Mum and Dad must have known we lovd them a lot, but I bet they didn’t know that we loved them as much as we did and still do. Isn’t it a shame that they worked so hard and so long just to see us happy, and I bet they never really imagined the lasting impact that they made on us all. If my children only feel half as much about me when I’m gone, I would be happy. How wonderful to be able to leave all that love behind you, just sad that you never know.
Susan | 9 March 2008 at 14:18
What a wonderful story! Do you remember when you were old enough to realize that it wasn’t Father Christmas that did everything? How did things change after that?
Beetle | 9 March 2008 at 15:39
Hi Susan
I can’t really remember my age. It was such a gradual thing that it was no big shock to any of us. Only as an adult have I felt sad that those times are gone forever.
granny grimble | 9 March 2008 at 22:09
As the eldest of the seven, I was the first to discover the great secret of Christmas! It didn’t matter, I still went to bed full of excitement, and awoke with the same sense of wonder as all my younger brothers and sisters! Then one Christmas, my darling Mum in all her wisdom, decided that she would allow me as a very special treat to become ‘grown up’ and help her fill the stockings. I felt so important and adult (I was probably about thirteen) I was now on the side of Christmas Eve with Mum and Dad. That Christmas morning I got up as usual with the little ones and we all rushed to find our stockings. Of course there wasn’t one for me, just a neat pile of presents. I had to really fight back bitter tears. My first Christmas without the magic of that stretchy mishapen stocking full of childish things. Sometimes becoming grown up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and I so wanted to be treated like a child again.
Beetle | 9 March 2008 at 22:27
Children always want to grow up, and once they do, they wish they were kids again.
Swubird
| 23 December 2008 at 15:18
Babs:
That’s a great little Christmas story. It brings back memories of the past and fills the heart with happiness. I remember the stockings so well, and how my parents would stay up till the wee hours preparing everything for me and my sister.
Happy trails.
Swubird´s last blog post..A CHRISTMAS MYSTERY
beetle
| 23 December 2008 at 15:59
Swubird: It was a lovely time that has stayed with me all of my life :O)
Kathy
| 23 December 2008 at 18:29
You always give me a smile Babs. I loved to read your Christmas memories and I agree no one really needs all the gifts they receive. It’s all about the magic! As kids, we didn’t get terribly expensive gifts. Simple was enough for us.
Merry Christmas to you and Mo. Loved your funny JibJab thing. Those crack me up!
Kathy´s last blog post..Weirdest Trip Memento I’ve Ever Saved
DJ
| 23 December 2008 at 20:50
What a wonderful story! I always remember my stocking looking odd shaped too. I would hurry to get everything out so it would be ok again.
DJ´s last blog post..Holiday Scenery.
Eric "Speedcat Hollydale"
| 24 December 2008 at 3:14
I have so many great holiday memories too. LOVE that “Santa” stopped in to ask you if you were good. I can almost see it as you tell the story
Eric “Speedcat Hollydale”´s last blog post..Linki the Winki El` Chupacabra & Other Nice Things from "Internet Treasures Showcase"
Vampy Vic
| 24 December 2008 at 8:42
OH my goodness that is beautiful. How things have changed, children nowdays would be all up in the parents face about what they “should” have gotten from Santa.. One thing about not having a whole lot makes you appreciate every thing you have and in my opinion makes your life so much richer
Vampy Vic´s last blog post..Ho HO HO MEERRRRYY CHRISTMAS
Glynis Smy
| 24 December 2008 at 17:12
That was a lovely story to relay,I loved the dancing elves too!
I am a new Entrecarder and wish you Seasons Greetings!
Jay
| 27 January 2009 at 19:52
I remember it all so well. It was very similar in our house, except Dad didn’t dress up as Santa. We used to leave a mince pie and a glass of Sherry out for ‘Father Christmas’ and of course it would always be gone by morning, but no-one suspected Dad!
I think the smell was made up of bacon (unusual treat for us) Christmas pudding and cake, mince pies, the Christmas drinks, like sherry, and the smell of wrapping paper, glue and glitter, and then on Christmas Eve, the pine needle smell of the tree.
Did you have those little 3d boxes of Jack Frost, that shiny flaky stuff that got everywhere? I loved that stuff!
Jay
| 27 January 2009 at 19:53
Oh, and boxes of dates and figs!! And nuts. They added to the smell!
beetle
| 27 January 2009 at 21:56
Jay: You know, I don’t remember much about the food, or even our Christmas dinner! I’m not sure if we had one in those days. We were a large family and it was fairly soon after the war, with food still rationed. All the things you mention did come in later years though
Then again, you are younger than me!