My earliest memories…

Do not boast against the branches. But if you do boast, remember that you do not support the root, but the root supports you.

Romans 11:18 NKV

Walking into an empty house which was to become our home. My eyes focused against the bright sunlight to see a paper Christmas bell. The ones that open out from flat and curl round to make a fat multi coloured bell of shaped thin paper. It was this I saw hanging in the sunlight from above a window. The unknown person showing us the house placed it in both my wide open hands. There my memory of life began.

Once we were living in the house my next memory is of a long kitchen with a wooden box by the back door. The box had a wire mesh over it and in it were the smallest of helpless chicks chirping. I carried this box with my father to help him. We put the chicks in an outside coop for the day and then brought them in at night. In reality my father was carrying all the weight but my hands were on its rough surface. My help was my presence.

Then there was the birth of my sister. It wasn’t what was inside the brown paper wrapping that I can remember but that there was a small package for each day that my mother was away. I opened these eagerly , with an excited count aloud with Granny of how many little packets were left. It was only after three little packets had been opened that I visited only from outside the maternity hospital. I remember Granny (my mother’s mother) taking my hand. I remember looking up at a window that took the full tilt of my head and the screwing up of my eyes to see my mother and a first glimpse of my sister, a bundle of white. This was a significant day. This was when my flow of memory began.

Helping my Granny wash nappies by hand. Gran scraping what she called “paw-paw” off the nappies and me up to my arm pits in foaming soap. Changing my name from Sandy to Mandy. ( My real name Sandra not much used) Insisting on wearing pretend glasses, being a nurse to my favourite dolls and drying shaped mud cakes in the sun. I also have stories told about me before I had a memory. These included the story of my relationship with my Teddy…

10 thoughts on “My earliest memories…

  1. My lovely sister! I heard the stories of when you called a feather a “chicken leaf”, how you would throw your empty bottle out of the cot and that once you are a whole lot of baby aspirin which sent Mom into a panic. Miss you. One day you’ll be able to visit…

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