Myddle by Helen Ebrey

Author:Helen Ebrey [Helen Ebrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781910723524
Publisher: Merlin Unwin Books Limited
Published: 2017-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Peat was still burned instead of coal in those days, since it was usually cheaper than delivered coal in areas fairly close to a peat moss. Logs were usually even cheaper, when they could be obtained.

Granny attended many of the garden fêtes and village events and was one of the oldest inhabitants (being in her 90s). She brought all her children up in the Christian faith, quoting them passages from her bible which she knew by heart.

Special church services were held on Wednesday evenings, after which alms, in the form of bread (not always fresh), were distributed from the vestry door to the poor people of the parish. This bread was first blessed by the rector. Several boards depicting names of benefactors who had provided charitable donations (with the sums provided) were displayed on the vestry wall. Granny, being so old, qualified for such alms, which she gave to me for Mother. We were always glad of it.

When very old, granny became almost blind (as did other female members of my family, as a result of a lifetime of sewing and darning by the light of oil lamps), so we children accompanied her to worship. This was an especially delightful task on a winter evening, as we carried her ‘special lamp’, with candle inside, each child supporting her as we led her through the village. For church she wore a long black woollen cloak, which had thousands of jet beads worked in intricate floral patterns decorating it. A little bonnet of the same material complemented her outfit.

Often when we called for her, we would find her fast asleep in the old rocking-chair by the fire. She didn’t always have time to get changed, but the moment we helped her on with the cloak and bonnet, an unbelievable transformation took place. The jets caught the light from the flickering candles and oil lamps inside the church, and we felt so proud of our distinctively-dressed granny, and privileged to be in her company.

Grandfather lay in the churchyard under the little fir tree now blown towards the east by a century of prevailing west winds across the plain. This tree still stands to the right of the lych gate and, 50 years later, granny joined him at the same spot. Little baby Beatrice lies at their feet – I will tell you about her later.

No stone marks their resting-place. We just know our grandparents and baby sister are there.

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