My Auntie Winifred Harvey used to write poetry and often put down her memories in verse. This is the poem she wrote in 1998, Kingsley has changed a lot since then. She lived at Ivy Cottage, The Hurst.
Memories of childhood at home, at school and in Kingsley village
before Electricity and gas and other amenities.
before the North Western buses ran between Northwich and Frodsham.
The Post Office was a mini department store selling groceries, drapery and haberdashery, crockery, ironmongery and all DIY items.
At Christmas cards were in boxes on the counter to choose your own - 1/2d, 1d or special 2d each. Postage was 1/2d unsealed envelope, 1d sealed envelope. (This was before decimilisation - £.s.d.)
The 'Shop Room' above the shop had jumpers, cardigans, aprons, stockings, cloths to embroider and embroidery silks, gloves and a wonderful choice of gifts, including mens socks, ties etc.
There was a separate building where people now park their cars at the side knowns as the 'Show Room'. This contained crockery, china and glassware displayed in the window.
The other window displayed hardward, pots and pans etc. At Christmastime the hardware disappeared and was replaced by a wonderful selection of toys. dolls, games, books, which all the children rushed to see as they came out of St John's C of E School next door. Faces pressed to the glass, amidst shouts of delight and excitement.
The two local bakers displayed Christmas cakes beautifully decorated by their own confectioners.
Christmas Eve we hung our stockings on the mantelpiece, handy for Father Christmas as he came down the chimney - they were dad's stockings - long ones handknitted by mother. My sister and I would lie in bed listening, sure we could hear reindeer bells.
Christmas morning, the stockings had been transferred to the bedroom, they contained fruit, nuts and sweets and always one special present, usually a book, a very big schoolgirls annual and such like.
Christmas dinner (not known as lunch then). How did our mother cook such a wondful meal with all the pans on an open fire? And make such delicious sauce for the pudding without spoiling or burning anything. The oven heated from the fire in which the chicken was cooked. We never had a Turkey for our small family a plump chicken, pork and sausages from the local butcher - there were two in those days.
After dinner - soon time to prepare tea, homemade mincemat in the mince pies and mother's Christmas cake.
Fun and games followed in the parlour, carols and songs around the piano and games, our favourites were 'Consequences' and 'Happy Families'.
The Hurst at 11 p.m. Christmas Eve went to Kingsley Hall for supper by kind invitation of Mr & Miss Norcross. It was very traditional - open fire, table down the middle of the room, mince pies and sandwiches etc.
Afterwards - about half the number were left to finish the singing - finishing around 4 a.m. the other half vanished with pockets stuffed with the remaining mince pies!!
I don't remember a Christmas Day or Christmas Eve service at The Hurst unless Christmas Day was on a Sunday (these services came in recent years).
Christmas parties were unknown until the Primary Department was founded - our Sunday School teachers would give members of their class a little gift such as a handkerchief - always treasured.
The Chapel was usually decorated with Evergreens, Christmas was very real. It did not start in September onwards as now. Preparations like making mincemeat and puddings - made in advance, because extra cleaning had to be done before Christmas, clean covers, curtains etc.
We had to listen to the angel's message of peace and goodwill, it was a celebration of Christ's coming.
What has happened since - Supermarkets, Deep Freezers, Convenience Foods, Telephones, TV, Compuleters and the never ending rush of traffic.
We now have a 'Too Busy to Stop Day' on the Saturday before Christmas here at The Hurst where anyone can slip quietly into the warm and peace and think about what Christmas really means - away from TV and computers.
I am so thankful for memories of Christmas past.
(Winifred M Harvey, Christmas 1998)
