As was our tradition on Christmas Eve we were sitting beside our big Christmas tree, we three girls wearing our new Christmas nightdresses and our mother reading the Christmas story.
We lived in a bungalow with wire mesh doors and windows that were closed at night to allow the air to move freely whilst keeping insects out. In the darkness we could hear crickets and other night noises through the wire mesh.
We became aware of other sounds - people coming up our garden path. Through the French doors that opened straight out into the garden from our sitting room we saw the light of a swinging hurricane lamp. At the front of a small procession coming up the path was a man leading a sheep.
Our beloved house servant, who had been sitting by the Christmas tree with us, acted as interpreter. He explained that this visiting family wanted to thank our Daddy, who was a doctor, for saving the life of their child. They had brought their sheep for us to eat at our Christmas feast. Such generosity, but what on earth were we going to do with a live ram?
Continued tomorrow…