[West Ender]

I was born in 1943 and I have vivid memories of Christmases in the years after the war. How do you think they compare with today?

I would wake up on Christmas morning to find the stocking I'd left at the end of my bed bulging with presents from Father Christmas. The presents would be perhaps a book, a paint-box, crayons, a small mechanical toy and always an apple and an orange and a half crown (that's money to you kids). Downstairs would be the Christmas tree, which had been put up, and I had helped to decorate, the night before and under it was my "big" present - oh the joy the year I got a scooter!

When I was a bit older, from about the age of 10, we went to midnight mass at St Mary's on Christmas Eve. The male voice choir was superb in those days (anyone remember Tony Flannegan and the Henry brothers? They appeared on Opportunity Knocks in the early 60s - wonderful singers). I remember walking back to West End through the snow, it often snowed at Christmas, and then opening presents at 2 a.m. - I was too sophisticated to hang up a stocking by then.

On Christmas morning friends and relations would drop in for a glass or two. The house smelled of the turkey that was cooking in the kitchen and we'd sit down to eat it at about 2 p.m. Invariably at least one friend or relation would have stayed on and was invited to join in the feast. Succulent turkey with thick gravy, crisp roast potatoes, carrots and brussels sprouts (there were always brussels sprouts), Xmas pudding and brandy sauce; my mum was an excellent cook.

The sideboard groaned under bottles of whisky, brandy, sherry and port and there was always a large dish of nuts with the nutcrackers laid on top and a box of dates. No one ever ate dates except at Christmas when it seemed to be obligatory. Christmas night always brought more visitors and my mother spent hours in the kitchen making huge mounds of turkey-and-stuffing sandwiches and warming up mince pies. The visitors consumed great amounts of food and drink and repaid us loads of laughter and fun. We played cards and Monopoly and the grown-ups got sozzled.

Boxing day was quieter and the time to play with the new toys. There were no films on the telly, no Christmas Specials - the telly stopped broadcasting at 9 p.m. And then - it was all over. Dad was back at work on the 27th and the whole festival had lasted just 3 days.

My parents didn't spend a fortune on my brothers and me. A jumper, knitted in garish colours by a caring aunt, was the equivalent of the Designer clothes today's kids demand and a small toy meant as much to us as today's i-pods and computer games. Christmas was about friendship and family, not worldly goods, and it was magical.