It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas! Especially now that we’re celebrating the release of the festive paperback of the season – A Second Christmas Wish by Kathryn Freeman! Kathryn has joined us on the blog today to talk a little bit about the book and also her first magical memories of Christmas (which of course include satsumas!) …
Today is an exciting day for me – it’s the paperback publication day for A Second Christmas Wish. The book features William, a very special little boy, who sadly doesn’t believe in Father Christmas.
When I was writing it, memories of Christmas when I was a child came flooding back. Unlike poor William, I had no hesitation in believing in the man in the red suit. And why wouldn’t I? A few weeks before Christmas I would write him a note, letting him know what I wanted for Christmas. Sometimes he even wrote back (it was years later I learnt those handwritten notes, beautifully penned in black ink, had come from my neighbour). Then on Christmas Eve, full of dizzy anticipation, I’d put my stocking on the end of my bed and dive under the covers. I was desperate to get to sleep quickly, because the faster I did, the earlier Christmas Day would arrive.
The first thing I did on Christmas morning, was wriggle my toes. Even now I can remember the joy of feeling the heavy weight of a present laden stocking. And presents weren’t just jammed into the red stocking, they spilt over onto the bed. Bubbling with excitement I’d rush to wake my brother and together we’d lug all our presents into mum and dad’s bedroom to show them. Little did we realise our poor parents knew all about the presents, because only a few hours ago they’d been wrapping them up! But my brother and I didn’t see their tired faces (who wants to be woken at dawn when you’ve got to bed late after a Christmas Eve party? Something I only appreciated when I had kids of my own). We only saw what Father Christmas had brought us.
It didn’t matter that when I dug into the stocking, the presents I unwrapped included a satsuma, a free poster from the newspaper and a Mickey Mouse painting set recycled from last year because my parents had seen it unopened in one of the cupboards. It didn’t matter because Father Christmas had handpicked and delivered these presents for me. I knew he had, because the whiskey we’d left out for him had been drunk, and the carrots we’d left for Rudolph had been nibbled.
Believing in Father Christmas is what made Christmas so special for me as a child (as you can see, it certainly wasn’t the presents…!). That’s the Christmas I hope I gave my own children (though the orange I left them was a chocolate one). And that’s the Christmas Melissa would love to give her own son, William. Perhaps, just perhaps, Daniel, William’s new tennis coach, can help her
A Second Christmas Wish is available as a paperback and in eBook from all good book retailers and platforms. Click HERE for purchasing options.