Daughter of Claus: Day XIII
A little boy was sitting in the corner of a railway carriage
On the jukebox: When the Thames Froze by Smith & Burrows
When we were younger, we used to sit down together most evenings before bed and Mum would read us a bedtime story - a book that we serialised and enjoyed as a family. I remember this happening in particular with us older four children, though I am sure it continued over the years (there are sixteen years between my brother, the eldest, and my youngest sister). As much as I enjoyed all these serials - particularly Finn Family Moomintroll or Comet in Moominland, both of which I could recite by heart - the most exciting serial of the year was the one we shared in the run-up to Christmas.
There were two serials we would read at Christmas. One, The Box of Delights by John Masefield, which we loved (there is still a childish thrill every time I hear the phrase, “The wolves are running!”). The second, the book which has always defined Christmas for me, was The Children of Green Knowe by Lucy M. Boston.
Every now and then, a perfect book enters your life, and it changes you forever. The Children of Green Knowe has been in my life for as long as my memories stretch back - I am sure there was, perhaps, a moment when I was very young when I was not aware of it, but I can’t remember those times. It is, in many ways, the essence of Christmas, and captures the magic of it all beautifully. Even now, with my youngest sister being thirty, I believe my mum still reads it to the family most Christmases. I read it to my own, growing family in the run up to Auri’s first Christmas, and plan to read it again next Christmas, and beyond. There is one section of the book which, when reading, brings tears to my eyes with its poignant beauty. My voice breaks, and I remember my mother’s voice doing the same each time she read that section. At Euan’s suggestion, I recently found an audiobook version, though I am nervous about listening to it in case it does not deliver.
Some years ago, for my birthday, (most of) my family and I visited Hemingford Grey, where Lucy M. Boston had lived, and upon which she had based her idea of Green Knowe. How evocative and accurate was her writing (and how wonderful were her son’s illustrations), that the visit did not disappoint. It really was Green Knowe. Who knows what the future holds for the house, but if you love the books, I would highly recommend a visit as soon as you can muster.
And everyone - everyone - should read The Children of Green Knowe at Christmastime.
I would love to hear about your own Christmas folklore and memories. Do you have any stories which you make a point of re-reading at Christmas?