Funny how things trigger memories

This morning on the radio, they were talking about Christmas nativity plays at schools, and I was immediately taken back to mine

I went to Hutt Central School and as a member of the junior class we prepared with much excitement for our event. I was dressed as an angel. In a wide sleeved creating made from an old bed sheet. I can feel the thick weave of the fabric under my fingers still. I don’t remember if I wore a halo, but there we defiantly wings. Dad, clever as always with his hands, drew the pattern and he and Mum fabricated them from some sort of silver material. Not shiny as though made from tinfoil and not that thin. I think they were made up of several layers probably sewn together to give the definition of feathers.

I joined the host of other angels; standing on forms to give is height, to sing our wobbly song. Probably ‘Away in a Manger’

We had decorated our classroom with an enormous tree. It wasn’t a real one, rather one we had painted in pieces on many huge sheets of the ubiquitous grey paper, why was it never white. To us small beings it seemed to reach all the way up to the ceiling.

Stuck on at strategic intervals were small presents.  Matchboxes wrapped in paper we had painted in various festive colours. Nothing bright. I remember the paints were almost always wishy-washy watery colours often tuning muddy brown after our mis-dipping paintbrushes from one colour to another.  We hung up the streamers we had made from short strips of coloured paper that stuck to itself when wetted, which we did by licking it. Yuk I can still taste the glue.