Colin F. Jones

CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS

I remember back in 1952, we had migrated from England to Australia, under the promise of a house and a job being available. Everything we had been told turned out to be a lie. So our first Christmas in the new land took place in a humpy built from hessian sugar bags and saplings from the surrounding bush. We slept on the dirt floor of Mother Nature – all ten of us. Even so we made presents for one another out of all sorts of things.

We were never unhappy at Christmas time, but it was, I must admit a little different from waking up in a warm bed in the middle of the night to discover that Santa had left presents at the foot of our beds. Those were wonderful days: Robin Red Breast at the window, snow on the ground, decorations throughout the house, more presents under the tree…