My Sister and I

By Alice Newton

When I was a child and the sun never stopped shining, I can vividly remember the local church weddings. Living within 100 yards of Walker parish church, it was our custom to go on a Saturday always a good day for nuptials. Being of a certain age and penniless to boot, the object of the exercise was to lie in wait for the traditional hoyoots. The wedding guests and the families being of sound mind, used to throw coppers to the children. This was tradition at its best and gave it them a good feel good factor, we in return blessed them accordingly. On a good day our pennies were spent before anyone got wind of our good fortune, beware of hangers on who wouldn’t partake in the scramble but they were not above helping you to spend it. I can still see my sister, who was younger than I (still is actually), absolutely raking it in. She was very astute, her acumen was beyond my comprehension, it has stood her in good stead to this day. The vision of her perched on the spaces of the lych-gate at the entrance to the churchyard was a joy to behold. I think she used to look on it as a one day a week employment. All of our friends took part but there were days when it was not for the faint hearted; the knees, the fingernails suffered as a result but rewards were supreme. Children of independent means albeit just for the day, the rate of exchange was good, halcyon days indeed, the delights bought were all we had wished for. Poverty was for parents, the courage in these hard times did not go unnoticed. In spite of all the hardships, we as children were their hopes for the future, not to be wasted, not to be ignored.