Coming up to Christmas this throwback Thursday’s choice to reblog seems an appropriate one.
Again I was four. I remember our pre-school Christmas Party/Concert, at least the occasion. Our teacher Mrs McDougal was ancient. Lines made road maps on her face but she was always smiling. When she laughed her huge bosom would wobble up and down like jelly. She controlled us kids by the tone in her voice. She had no need for punishment, maybe occasionally standing in the corner, certainly not rods, rulers or hands.
We had practiced for weeks for the concert. All the parents were going to come, but better than that Santa was also going to attend. And there was the food. There is nothing in the world like a spread put on by country women in Australia and having a particular liking for sweet things, I looked forward to the cakes and slices that would definitely be there.
What I didn’t know at the time was that…
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Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist) 