Chocolate Box Memories

Weekend chocolates and candies were one of my favourite sweet treats when I was a youngster; I especially liked the taste of the perilous green ones. There was always a box in my stocking each Christmas, although the stocking was in reality a pillowcase. The Christmas memories unfold and roll back into one happy memory. Family, friends, fun, laughter, the occasional tear, frost, snow, school concerts. I also remember singing on the bridge at Ironbridge each Christmas Eve and singing carols in local pubs, hospitals and old people’s homes. This started off as fun but because money was often forced on us we ended up giving money to charity too. So many happy faces over the years…

The chocolates even remind me of the class bully at my junior school. One day I had just collected a chair from the side of the room and got to my desk with it and he appeared at my side and ordered me to give the chair to him. Without thinking I answered ‘no’ which was quite out of character for me because I was really shy and timid and wouldn’t say boo to a goose. He put on an angry stance, went red in the face and stomped off without saying anything. He never bothered me again until one Christmas when I had been given some weekend chocolates by one of my school friends. He asked (nicely) if he could have one. Due to his circumstances I knew he would never have the opportunity to have such things so I said yes and he said thank you. Lessons learned for both of us I think.

The pink Quality Street tin on the right also brings back memories, with its Victorian images and chocolates double wrapped in foil and cellophane. I used to try and smooth the foil out as flat as possible, hopefully without a single crease, then fold it up as small as possible. I also had fun experimenting with the cellophane layer in front of a camera lens. I remember the purple wrapper created very interesting effects on architecture. In one of my cupboards I still have one of those old tins, although now it is filled with buttons rather than chocolates.

All those years ago I didn’t appreciate how many memories a box of chocolates could hold locked up inside…

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