大象传媒

I was born and brought up in a strict but loving Christian home - and I know that these days have been influential in my life. My mum and dad were caretakers and active members of the chapel next door, and our life was therefore always very much part of this church. Sundays were always strictly observed but these were happy times. Many memories come back, some looking back quite funny. For instance one of my father's jobs at the start of Sunday was to set the chapel clocks. We were invariably sent down the road to see the time on the Parish Church clock and report back! Taking into account the time it took us to go down the road and back and then for dad to put the clocks at what according to us was the correct time, I have since wondered whether the services at Zion really started on time - I think there must have been a bit of guesswork. No games on Sunday! My 'Aunty Lilly' mentioned in previous memories once caught me running. She held my by the collar and related a well-known verse which started "A Sabbath well spent brings a week of content and health for the toils of tomorrow' I was then allowed to walk away. My mum and dad however whilst being strict were sensible. There was no Sunday trading then but if we were short of any item of food a visit was paid to the local shop at the top of the street and Henry served us from the side door. We then paid on Monday. Similarly if we ran out of milk we were sent to the local farm with a jug and Mrs. Hancock the farmers wife served up from the kitchen door. A fresh pint of milk almost straight from the cow. Sunday school was morning and afternoon, but living next door it was not far to go. My dad took the morning Sunday school - just a small group of us. This was at 10 o'clock and we would usually go on to the morning service, although being somewhat smaller at the start of the war I went back home. One day at the start of the war my mum was doing the weekly clean of the schoolroom when a team of very official gentlemen arrived to inspect the premises. The building was then requisitioned by the Goverment for a food depot and for the rest of the war Sunday school was in the gallery of the chapel. This was on three sides of the building and each class was allocated several pews. The infants always sat downstairs. One of the favourite occupations of the older boys was to let hymnbooks slip over the edge of the gallery onto the seats below - narrowly missing some unsuspecting teacher. The afternoon Sunday School was quite large, augmented by evacuees who were also sent along. Quite a few folk in those days had their Sunday dinner on Saturday - you couldn't preset ovens then. My mum and dad always insisted however that we had Sunday roast - it was often the only main meal together in the week. Consequently my Mum would stay at home to cook our dinner. She always made lovely apple pies and one dear old 'great aunt' who went to a nearby chapel which had an earlier service always called in for one of 'Lou's' pies, straight out of the oven. I can always remember her beaming face as she ate the pie and then toddled off home just as the last hymn was being sung next door. Shortly afterwards the deacons who always left by the back door of the chapel would solemnly come down the passage between our house and the chapel. Things were never quiet. About half past one our back yard would soon begin to fill with children arriving early for afternoon Sunday school. After Sunday school we very often went for a walk - and by the time we got home Mum would have prepared a lovely tea - which included homemade cake, always made the previous evening and often quite a number of chapel friends were invited. It was a happy time. Washing up had to be finished before the start of the evening service - and those not helping gathered around the piano for singing of many old fashioned hymns. Sometimes friends would again come in after the service for a cup of tea and chat and it was quite late before we were on our own. The day always ended with Sunday Half Hour on the wireless and on a warm summer evening we would sit and listen from the back yard with the window open. We still listen to Sunday Half Hour to this day. This yard sometimes served another purpose on a summer evening. The Pastor had a very powerful voice and if my mum didn't go to the service we would sit outside and she would listen through the open windows.
Sunday school outings were always memorable. Prior to the war these had been to such beauty spots as Westbury Hills, now it was to a local playing field, after school.We all lined up in Trowbridge Park and went to the Town Hall where a Western National bus had been hired to take up the mile or so to the field. Bill Alley the local carrier followed with his horse and cart with the tea urns and food. This was prepared by the teachers in the sports pavilion and after tea we always had sports. Then a short walk back to the bus which as I recall this time took up back to the chapel. The prize giving had always been in the week with a tea, but now because of the War this was on a Sunday afternoon in the Chapel. We had to learn a recitation and I can well remember being put onto a chair to recite a psalm. Every child was then given a book - usually of Bible stories - and if you had also attended the Sunday services for a certain number of times you received an extra prize of a sixpence in an envelope. This was indeed treasure.

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