Shedding light

Imelda Conway-Duffy

It’s over thirty years since I helped write letters to Santa Claus, dispatched them to The North Pole and took the letter-writers on trips to visit the Great Man on one of his pre-Christmas ‘stopovers’ in Dublin. As Christmas approached, extra culinary chores were as welcome as a blizzard in June, and the tree and the minimal house decorations were installed within hours of the Big Day. The hassle was always offset by the delight in the children’s eyes and the hours of fun that followed.

With the passing of the years, I am free to enjoy the muddle of traditions that make up the ‘festive’ proceedings – from a safe distance. At the same time I notice that beneath the fairy lights, the jingling bells, the glittering window displays and the ‘nostalgic’ Christmas music – to get us in the mood – that there is a stealthy return to…

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