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Molly Howard (nee Stucliffe)
Jul 4, 05 - 9:15 AM |
The Christmas Day Post
The follwing was sent in by Molly Howard telling of her memories of an idylic childhood in Bradford. Below is a poem she wrote about her experience carol singing around Thornbury and delivering mail around the Ripleyville area - (as students used to do in the 50's) The Christmas Day Post (Bradford in the 1950’s) The Watch night service came to a close, Everyone gathered together outside Slapping their arms and stamping their toes, Light snow, a postcard Christmastide The “Royal Diadem” is sung, And now “Hail Smiling Morn” It’s midnight past, so off we go, To Carol sing ‘til dawn. Each small performance ends the same, Wishing love, harmony and peace, In song of course and in four parts, The coffee and a mini feast At half past four we turn for home, Still singing with a group of friends, This is no day to spend in bed, And we’ll be weary when it ends The workmen’s’ early morning tram Transport us to earn our crumb For, now equipped with weighty sack, A student postie I’ve become. My round, of course, is well down town, No letter boxes here, But “Post it through the broken pane” The envelope states quite clear. An into deafening weaving sheds Of Thomas Ripley’s mill From this the area gets its name, It’s known as Ripleyville Across the railway bridge I pass, Engulfed in smog and steam The couplings clanking, jarring, The sudden breakings scream. Into the foundry offices, It seemed like hell as, through the door, Up to the eerie with a birds eye view, Of flames, and smoke and molten ore. Wet and wearily I go, To clock off at the GPO Poured from attitude the grey And frothy tea will end my day “A day for girls on vans, “suggested, “We’re wet through and they’re quite rested Oh no my dears you girls are fragile The parcel vans need men that are agile. No more trams on Christmas Day I long for Christmas Dinner most So through the deepening snow I trudge To bring the cheer of Christmas Post. |
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