“A Christmas Lesson in Humility”

Growing up in 1980s Derby, our Christmas routine was unchanging. Excitement filled the air as I woke my older sisters, and we gathered in our parents’ room to unwrap presents. Festively dressed, we drove to Auntie Marion’s for a grand Christmas dinner at midday.

The feast, a testament to tradition, featured homemade delights from turkey to Christmas pudding. Post-dinner, we exchanged gifts, watched the Queen’s speech, and indulged in a lighter tea. The day continued with supper, marked by pastry treats and sweets between meals.

Remarkably, this gluttonous celebration repeated for three consecutive days across different family homes. However, my teenage rebellion disrupted this routine when I spent Christmas Eve with friends in the pub and delayed our arrival at Auntie Marion’s the next day.

The consequence? We walked into a depleted feast, with my aunt improvising a meal that included heated baked beans. Mortified, I realized the world didn’t wait for me. Though not my last tardy Christmas, it marked a pivotal moment of growing up.

Now a vegan, I bring my own meat-free treats to Christmas gatherings. This tale encapsulates not just a disrupted dinner but a lesson in humility – a reminder that Christmas isn’t about us, but about shared moments and understanding.