Christmas in Casterton 1948. Aged 8.
An only child with most family in Melbourne Christmas was nothing special. My pillow case consisted of presents from nan and aunties so Father Christmas was outed early.
Christmas dinner was chicken, a rare and yummy treat. We’d then have tinned Tom Piper plum pudding and custard.
After asking to leave the table it was getting myself dressed in the best bib and tucker to go to church for the Christmas service.
The children of the Aboriginal camp were invited to come, and being great mates with them, I propped myself in their pew.
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The service and the Christmas story was told well and obviously of interest to the camp kids as they stared transfixed at the minister. Duly noticed by said gentleman.
When time to leave our lovely minister shook hands with adult and child, finally coming to the eldest boy in the visiting group, he asked if he would like to come to Jesus.
“Nah mate, Jesus was a good bloke but we got a rainbow snake.”
The Minister retired defeated.
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