Here is a little heart warming story from my past, 38 years ago.
“Christmas 1977
Síle and I had come home from England in 1977 with the infant Caitriona and no jobs to go to.
It was in one of Irelands many eras of recession but we were determined, in our innocence, to try and start up a business on our own and to that end, just before Christmas, we had rented a little farm cottage just outside Kilkenny with an eye to see if we could find a premises in that town to rent to start up a small restaurant.
We were of course totally broke, our only income was the dole which, after we had paid our rent didn’t leave a whole lot over for luxuries.
Strangely I don’t remember being in the least depressed about that as we headed into that Christmas. This was mainly because, having spent the previous months staying with various relations, we were at last on our own in our very first house.
Our only method of transport was Síle’s bike, preserved from her schooldays and I clearly remember riding the bike into Kilkenny to hire a set of chimney brushes to clear out the flue in the little parlour of the cottage which was totally blocked with nests.
Having swept the chimney I was able to carry the brushes back strapped to the bike like a proper sweep.
About three days before Christmas we had an amazing windfall.
A card arrived from my mother and inside it was £100 in cash.
In the card she told that it was not from her (she wouldn’t have had it to give anyway) but that she was sworn to secrecy as to the donor but her instructions were that we were to be told to spend it on Christmas.
This was a huge sum of money at the time, and (as we were properly sensible of our shaky finances) we headed off into Kilkenny immediately with the bike and the child in the buggy determined to spend as much of it as we could.
I can still clearly remember the journey back from town, we had a case of red wine (called, as I remember it, Le Pot de Patron) balanced on the handlebars of the bike and somewhere on the carrier we had a small wooden rocking horse for Caitriona.
We had also managed to buy and carry a turkey and all the trimmings and these were laden in the buggy with Caitriona.
We were monarchs of all we saw and I don’t believe I have ever since felt as affluent.
I can still remember that Christmas as one of great happiness.
About three months later my mother came to visit and told us where our Christmas windfall had come from.
My mother’s best friend since childhood was a lady called Mickey O Donoghue, she and Mum had played hockey and tennis together and then had both been involved together in the Girl Guides.
That Christmas Mickey was in hospital very ill with cancer and my mother used to visit her every day.
As I was always the apple of my mother’s eye she obviously whiled away a lot of the time telling Mickey about me and Síle.
According to my mother about a week before Christmas Mickey gave my mother a cheque for £100 with instructions to send it on to us to spend it on Christmas.
The only condition was that my mother was sworn to silence on the identity of the donor.
The only reason that my mother thought herself free at this later stage to name her was that Mickey had died shortly after Christmas.”