The rich smell of coffee and hot chocolate filled the air, as the parents helped themselves from the huge urns stationed in the corner. Red and green tinsel adorned the walls, and a brightly decorated tree took centre stage at the top of the hall. Temperatures outside were below freezing and the weather forecast was for a white Christmas. The school hall was packed to capacity, and the room hummed with noise and chatter. A few latecomers squeezed between chairs, apologising as they accidentally stepped on toes. Mothers and fathers, with their heavy winter coats and woolly scarves draped behind them, smiled and waved at their children as they took their places on stage.

Julie was crammed into a plastic chair beside her sister and brother-in-law, watching her niece perform at her Christmas play. However, nothing was more beautiful to her than the excitement on her niece’s face on Christmas morning, and no sound was more angelic than that of her little voice singing carols and giggling through the lines of her school play.

It was her favourite time of year with its roaring fires, frothy mugs of hot chocolate, mince pies, brightly coloured tinsel, and the excitement of last minute gift buying. A door slammed, and the little girl started singing louder. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried to block her ears from the sounds of crashing and yelling below. There wasn’t much love or stability in her life her parents were alcoholics, and she could hear the fury of another argument raging downstairs. She didn’t want them to tease her for being a baby. She snuggled up to her doll, and pulled the blanket over her head, so her two older sisters wouldn’t see her sucking her thumb.

She whispered her secrets to the doll as she covered her gently with the only blanket on the bed. Her best friend in the whole world was her beloved baby doll, with tangled blonde hair, and blue eyes that closed when she laid her down. On the floor, beside her bed, a cup was upside down, but it went unnoticed beneath the pile of old clothes. There were no pretty dresses hanging in her wardrobe. She was wearing grubby pyjama bottoms and a stained top. The light brown hair that fell across her pillow had never been decorated with a ribbon. At two years old, almost three, she was a toddler who was turning into a little girl without anyone noticing. The child was curled up in bed, singing a nursery rhyme and sucking her thumb.

The Gift by Joanne Clancy