| It
was December 1949Â…Â…I was just 4 years oldÂ…Â…Â…My
Grandmother's house was buzzing with excitement of Christmas,
a few days away.
There
were glorious smells of all the mince pies baking, the rattle
of wrapping paper being hurriedly but carefully drawn around
those awkward shaped presents.
The
sound of my family singing, whistling, the laughter - all
mixed in with excited chatter.
ThenÂ…Â…
a loud knock on the door, the doctor arrives and not long
after an ambulance.
Gran was taken away.
By
the time she reached the hospital, some 6 miles away, she
had developed peritonitis.
My
Mum went to see Gran every dayÂ…Â…Â…. I wasn't
allowed on the ward because of my age, but was lifted so I
could wave to her through the window.
One
afternoon, they let me go to her bedside. At that moment,
the band of the Salvation Army assembled outside the window.
They struck up with Hark the Herald Angels Sing and Gran got
better.
Every
time I hear Hark the Herald Angels Sing I remember that was
the song that made her better. And it was Xmas Day.
by Bob Baker from Lincoln
|
Bob's story
