The Community of St. Hilda celebrated Christmas together on Boxing Day. For me, as a child, there was not the flatness of that ‘day after’ feeling but rather the excitement of anticipation as we made the wintry drive from Graffham, where my father was the parish priest. Turning into Micklepage we would see familiar faces as we parked beside the Barn. [back]

The inevitable ‘Micklepage mud’ would be negotiated as we made our way past the barn and its accompanying buildings to the ‘Hostel’.

Our first greeting there was the wagging tail of Boots the dog so-named because he lived amongst the boots in the large porchway and then the lively high voice of Mary Harding and the warmth of her kitchen.