The Country Child: Advent #6
Welcome to the sixth in a series of Advent posts. I thought we needed something gentle today; everyone I know is feeling raw so I have reproduced one of my favourite passages about Christmas. It’s from Alison Uttley’s The Country Child .
The illustrations are by C. F. Tunnicliffe.
‘Susan awoke in the dark of Christmas morning. A weight lay on her feet and she moved her toes up and down. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was Christmas Day. She stretched out her hands and found the knobby little stocking, which she brought into bed with her and clasped tightly in her arms as she fell asleep again.
‘She awoke later and lay holding her happiness, enjoying the moment. The light was dim, but the heavy mass of the chest of drawers stood out against the pale walls, all blue like the snow-shadows outside. She drew her curtains and looked out at the starry sky. She listened for the bells of the sleigh, but no sound came through the stillness but the screech owl’s call…
‘She pinched the stocking from the toe to the top, where her white suspender tapes were stitched. It was full of nice knobs and lumps, and a flat thing like a book stuck out of the top. She drew it out – it was a book, just what she wanted most. She sniffed at it, and liked the smell of the cardboard back with deep letters cut in it. She ran her fingers along like a blind man and could not read the title, but there were three words in it.
‘Next came an apple, with its sweet, sharp odour. She recognised it, a yellow one, from the apple chamber, and from her favourite tree. She took a bite with her strong, white little teeth and scrunched it in the dark. It was delicious fun, all alone, in this box-like room.’
Second Nature: The Art of Charles Tunnicliffe RA.
A link to the Alison Uttley society.