Assumptions

The Ghost of Christmas Past

"Christmas isn't a season. It's a feeling."

Christmas is nearly upon us once again, and in this time of violence and bombing it seems as if the 'season of goodwill' is further away than ever. In the wake of the recent attacks all over the world, there will be many an empty space at the Christmas table. Indeed closer to home too there seems to be more homeless and poor people than ever, and governments are less and less likely to act on solutions, thus the problem is exacerbated year after year. 

Recent media coverage of food banks etc made me think back to a long time ago, a memory that I had all but forgotten about, yet was still lurking there in the annals of my past. 

When my boys were babies we lived in a basement flat. A hideous dark dank place that we did our best to keep nice. One morning we woke up to find the electrics had gone on fire. The mix of damp and dodgy had finally taken it's toll. No working smoke alarms meant we were lucky to wake up when we did, or so said the Fireman. We didn't feel very lucky right then if I'm honest.

The flat was condemned, and the council gave us a house. Every cloud and all that, and in hindsight it was for the best. Except that we had been paying through the nose for the flat, the landlord was a dick that had our electrics rigged up to the whole building and as a result we had been paying the bill for the whole lot. The method of his rigging caused a surge and overloaded everything which caused the fire, and left us with an electricity bill of epic proportions. He even refused to give us back our deposit. So there we were, no money, no furniture, no food, an 18 month old child with ADHD and a 3 month old baby. 

It was Christmas week when we got the key to our new house. So we had 4 days to get electricity turned on, make the house decent to sleep in, and to organise all the usual things you do for Christmas. With little or no money. 

I have to say my parents and my friends were fantastic; they suddenly had lots of stuff they didn't use any more. Myself and my then husband went hungry so the boys had full bellies and clean/dry bums but we didn't mind so long as the boys were happy. Santa and toys were the furthest things from our mind. 

I ended up with anaemia due to not eating and we ended up having to contact a charity for help. It was one of the toughest things we've ever had to do. I can't describe the feelings of failure and shame I felt; It was my job to look after my children and I couldn't do it. 

The charity were fantastic. They gave us food hampers and vouchers, and a box of toys for Santa. They gave us a few bits and pieces of furniture, and we managed that first Christmas to have some semblance of happiness and a roof over our heads. 

There's obviously a lot more to it than I can put down in a few simple paragraphs, but you get the picture. That Christmas taught me a lot of valuable lessons. We never dreamed we would end up in that position. We were both working, and always believed that if you work hard enough you'll never go hungry. But shit happens, and sometimes you find yourself in these situations that you can't control. There's no shame in asking for help. Bad times come and go, it's how you get out of them that matters. Poverty and food banks are not a new phenomenon. Sadly they will always be an intrinsic part of life. The most important lesson I learned though was to always try to make the best of what you have. Life deals us crap cards at times, but we've just got to do the best we can with what we have and hope that better times are around the corner. I've instilled certain values in my children too. They understand how lucky they are, and they know the value of everything as opposed to the price. And in this lead up to the silly season, they know it's things like spending time with people and valuing the little things that matters. I doubt they have any memory of these events, but hopefully the lessons I've learned have been passed on to them. 

SharonAnn