THE JOY OF READING AND A BROWNIE 127

By Janice Johnson

It’s been a tough year so far and not finished yet. However, like with all things, there are moments when something lifts your spirits, makes you laugh, reminds you of all that is good. 

One of these moments came when my sister, Sally, and I were sorting through our dad’s boxes of memorabilia, books, and other bits and bobs. Obviously, he’d kept a lot of Mum’s stuff, and, to our delight, we found they’d kept some of the letters we’d written to them as kids.

After getting a bit emotional, we then got the giggles. What were we like as kids!

First of all were the letters we’d written to Mum when she was having an operation in hospital. This is mine. I would have been about seven years old. 

I was obsessed with reading and this poem – The Joy of Reading by Anon – was in a poetry book I’d been given. I’ve not written it down quite right in my letter, but I’ve been able to recite it since I first read it and still do. ‘For a jolly good book, whereon to look, is better to me than gold’ – sums me up. And Mum kept it. The excitement was amplified when I found the actual poetry book in one of the book crates. I’d obviously loved it so much I’d written my name in it about five times and in different ways, and it is really worn and tattered. It is now on my poetry bookshelf.

The second letter I found is even funnier. Honestly, I was such a nerd – what do you mean, ‘was’? Cheeky.

This was a school holiday when I was ten years old. Off I went in a coach to Dymchurch in Kent. I remember eating a bag of cherries, which gave me a tummy ache. The kids shared a dormitory, and I am sure we had Horlicks or something like that. It was 1971 and I have a vague recollection of satin jackets being worn by the older kids and really wanting one. I also remember taking my Brownie 127 camera.

This is the letter I wrote home.

So, incorrect use of an apostrophe (shock horror) and a couple of spelling mishaps, but otherwise a perfect little missive to the parents. And bossy too. When I was little, my mum did threaten to write bossy boots on my wellies, but I didn’t believe I was. When I read this – yep, she was right. I’ve a feeling my family, friends, and colleagues will say I still am.

It’s extremely tough having to sort out your parents’ belongings, but how brilliant to find these memories that when you read them, help other memories to resurface, and fill you with a sense of having been truly loved and cherished by your mum and dad.