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A Child’s Christmas in Wales

Sunday, 28 December, 2014

The great Dylan Thomas knew that the best Christmas present of all is a story well told. A Child’s Christmas in Wales is a classic Christmas story and it’s more relevant this year as 2014 marks the centennial of the poet’s birth. Snippet:

Always on Christmas night there was music. An uncle played the fiddle, a cousin sang “Cherry Ripe,” and another uncle sang “Drake’s Drum.” It was very warm in the little house. Auntie Hannah, who had got on to the parsnip wine, sang a song about Bleeding Hearts and Death, and then another in which she said her heart was like a Bird’s Nest; and then everybody laughed again; and then I went to bed. Looking through my bedroom window, out into the moonlight and the unending smoke-colored snow, I could see the lights in the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear the music rising from them up the long, steady falling night. I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept.

Dylan Thomas (1914 — 1953)


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