The Sunday Times - UK (2021-12-19)

The Sunday Times December 19, 2021 11

NEWS

The fairy

lights

shine on

Aasmah

Mir’s tree

towards simpler requests.

There has been a big shift in

the last two years, since the

pandemic, with more

children asking for a teddy. I

think they are looking for a

bit of comfort, something

from the magic of the North

Pole to cling on to.”

The Polar Post has received

letters requesting everything

from a live shark to a

satsuma. This year’s requests

included a litter picker and a

Sellotape dispenser. While a

long wish lists of electronic

devices and plastic toys might

be expected, Wood, 33, said

most letters to Father

Christmas typically asked for

What do children want from

Father Christmas this year?

The answer is simpler than

you might imagine.

The Polar Post, a business

in Gloucestershire that sends

out 20,000 letters on behalf

of Santa each year in

response to children’s letters,

says teddies are the most

popular request.

Charlotte Wood, who

started the business in 2015

after her daughter was born,

said: “I find that somehow

reassuring. I am seeing a

move away from long lists of

‘this is what I would like’

Louise Eccles only one toy. She added:

“One little boy asked for a

model of Mars the size of a

walnut. My favourite this year

was a boy who wanted

48 yards of strong cord. His

father included a note saying

he had been reading a lot of

Enid Blyton books and

wanted it for when he went

on adventures.

“Cuddly toys have always

been a popular request, but

particularly at the moment. I

think children love more than

anything to see a teddy’s head

sticking out at the end of their

stocking. Lego, dolls, bikes

and scooters come up a lot

but we don’t get that many

requests for the expensive

electronic devices. There was

a child who asked for a

rubbish bin.”

Not all wishes are so easy

to grant, however, and Wood

has had to learn the art of

diplomacy while handling

Santa’s post.

“There’s a girl who every

single year asks for a real

magical wand so she can

create her own magic,” she

said, “but we find a way to

navigate requests for magic

powers. Father Christmas

told her that real wands are

only for real witches and

wizards because it is

important they are only

Queen faces first Christmas since Philip’s death — but she won’t be alone

Wessex and the Duke of York

over the festive period.

But there are challenges. In

October the Queen, 95, spent

a night in hospital and

protecting her from Omicron

is paramount. During

previous lockdowns, the

monarch was ensconced in

“HMS Bubble” at Windsor, a

core of 20 staff who followed

the strictest Covid protocols

and periods of isolation to

ensure the Queen and Prince

Philip’s safety.

The bubble was overseen

by Vice-Admiral Sir Tony

Johnstone-Burt, master of the

Like so many families

assessing their options for

Christmas, the royal family’s

festivities are still up in the

air.

The Queen’s longed-for

Christmas with the whole

family at Sandringham, her

home in Norfolk, hangs in the

balance as Covid cases soar. It

will be her first Christmas

since the death of the Duke of

Edinburgh in April.

After spending much of the

past year alone at Windsor

Castle, palace sources say the

Queen “would like to” head

to Sandringham this week.

But one thing is clear —

wherever the Queen is next

Saturday, she will not be

alone. Having spent her final

Christmas with Prince Philip

in isolation at Windsor last

year, her close family are

expected to be with her, if the

government does not restrict

household mixing this week.

It is understood that she

will be joined by the Prince of

Wales and Duchess of

Cornwall, the Princess Royal

and Sir Timothy Laurence,

the Earl and Countess of

Roya Nikkhah Royal Editor at what may be achieved. A

final decision is expected

early this week, but aides say

she continues to be “mindful”

of setting the right example.

Last week, “with regret”,

she cancelled her annual pre-

Christmas lunch for up to 50

family members at Windsor.

Royal aides said the Queen

took the “precautionary

measure” because she felt

that to proceed would “put

too many people’s Christmas

arrangements at risk” and

believed it was “the right

thing to do for everyone”.

@RoyaNikkhah

make Sandringham happen.

This variant is much more

transmissible than the others,

so there is a question over

whether a bubble would even

be effective. Can it be

delivered?”

It is understood there are

concerns that if one member

of the bubble was infected

with Covid, several others

would likely follow suit,

leaving the Queen without

adequate care.

Last night, a palace source

said the Queen’s plans remain

“under consideration” and

her closest aides are looking

household, and included the

Queen’s personal assistant

and dresser, Angela Kelly, her

senior page, Paul Whybrew,

her private secretary, Sir

Edward Young, and her

equerry, Major Tom White, as

well as chefs, footmen and

housemaids.

HMS Bubble is not

currently in place, but palace

aides say it would need to be

revived to minimise the risks

of moving to Sandringham,

and there are doubts over the

logistics. A royal source said:

“There would need to be an

The Queen at Prince Philip’s funeral at Windsor in April element of HMS Bubble to

JONATHAN BRADY/AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES

A shark, a bin and a Sellotape dispenser: Santa is asked for the strangest things

no Christmas and certainly

no tree. I nursed my anger

and resentment for years.

December was a month to

dread. “Why didn’t you get

one when you had your own

place?” I hear you ask. After

24 non-Christmases, the big

day had been ruined, and it

became a bitter milestone for

the next ten years. I

hibernated each Christmas,

not answering the phone,

watching telly and eating a

ready meal for one. Quite

often I opted to work. It

wasn’t fun – but at least I was

in control of my own misery.

I got married and we

started to do the odd bit of

Christmas – small gifts, a

special-ish meal. But still no

tree. My daughter arrived,

and when she was about

three we bought a tree and it

was placed in the garden

because my husband thought

it was too big for the house. I

watched it flickering sadly in

the rain, still just out of reach.

But all the upheaval of this

year jolted me from my

inertia and I decided to take

matters into my own hands.

My daughter and I chose a

tiny 3ft tree and carried it

home together, her huffing

and puffing and gritting her

teeth as she dragged it along

the street.

mother said it was “tacky” and

summed up the trend succinctly

when she asked, bemused, “But

why?”. My brother-in-law

started a sweepstake on its life

span and gave it “half a day, I

reckon”.

The tree is supposed to

stay up for approximately

five days. Customers say that

this is optimistic. Within 30

minutes of constructing my

own version, the whole

structure had slumped to

the right, two balloons had

escaped and a “bauble” had

popped.

After two days, our tree

was looking sad and wonky.

My husband announced

that it was “offending his

eyes” so we allowed the

children to use pencils to pop the

balloons, which will surely prove to be

one of the highlights of their Christmas.

Wasteful, yes, but it had to be disassem-

bled somehow.

The tree receives only one and two-

star reviews on the John Lewis website

and two stars on Amazon.

One John Lewis customer, Stephen

from London, wrote online that it took

two adults three hours to construct it.

However, after two days he says pieces

started to drop off and the balloons

deflated or burst. “The whole thing was

an utter mess after three days ... [it]

didn’t even make it to Christmas.”

Another customer wrote: “What a

nightmare, [it] took us ages to set it up. It

looked fine for about an hour, then bal-

loons started randomly popping. The

final straw is the sticky dots failed and it

just started falling apart. Do not bother

with this absolute piece of rubbish. It

won’t last more than 48 hours.”

John Lewis advertised the product on

its Instagram page recently, saying:

“Looking for an alternative Christmas

tree this year? Our Ginger Ray balloon

tree is made up of over 100 balloons.

What do you think of this festive show-

stopper?”

While more than 11,000 followers

If you find assembling flatpack furniture

a challenge then this year’s “must-have”

Christmas tree is not for you.

Retailers have launched a £25 six-foot

tree made of more than 100 single-use

rubber latex balloons. Sold everywhere

from John Lewis to Amazon, it is

described as “the ultimate show-

stopping display topped off with candy

cane balloons for extra impact”.

It certainly made an impact on my

Wednesday morning, taking two-and-a-

half hours to construct without taking a

tea break.

The Ginger Ray tree has proved con-

troversial, prompting complaints on

Instagram and on retailers’ websites for

its extravagance, wastefulness and fragil-

ity — arguably to be expected from a bal-

loon tree.

Those who are undeterred by such

reviews will first need to blow up 108 bal-

loons using an electric or a hand pump

(not included). These must be inflated to

one of three specific sizes, depending on

whether they will be adopting the role of

a big tree branch, a little tree branch or a

decorative bauble.

The ends of the balloons are painstak-

ingly pushed through small holes in plas-

tic hoops. The hoops are then stacked on

top of one another to form the “trunk” of

the tree. Glue dots are then added to each

balloon so they can be stuck in place and

decorated with five foil candy cane bal-

loons and a star.

The whole thing, if completed, must

then be surrounded with a wall of protec-

tion so no child, dog or cat can paw at,

play with or breathe too heavily on it.

I was forced to recruit my husband to

help tie the balloons in a bid to save my

sore fingers. He declined to assist with

applying 100-plus sticky dots to the struc-

ture to strengthen the tree. As he

retreated to his office, he critiqued the

way I had stacked the balloons: a mistake

on his part.

I sent a photograph of the finished tree

to my family. My father was supportive

and said it “looks like something from a

Christmas display in Oxford Street”. My

Louise Eccles Consumer Affairs Editor

AASMAH

MIR

It’s been a year of milestones

for me. A divorce, a 50th

birthday — and my first

Christmas tree.

When I was a child,

December brought the

unbearable anticipation of a

special annual event: the

tracing of an invisible line in

the snow between the

doorstep of our house and

the rest of Glasgow.

Christmas, you shall not enter

here.

I must have been around

six or seven when the penny

dropped. At school, in the

street, on the TV, everyone

was consumed by Christmas.

It was a world of cheap tinsel

and spray-can snow; of glitter-

and-glue fingers and drunk

Santas on Sauchiehall Street.

It was Boney M and Slade on

repeat, the promise of

presents and stockings, of

chocolate reindeers and

paper hats, of a glowing tree

towering over you for two

weeks. But not in our house.

There, it was just another

day. There was no nod to

Christmas. No tree or

decorations, no presents, not

even a special meal. In fact

we ate boiled white rice and

curry, as we did most days,

and then scattered to watch

the Top of the Pops Christmas

special quietly away from my

dad, who hated Christmas

so much he banned it.

My adorable and

fun dad became

miserable just for

those two days. He

had a pathological

hatred of it and

scowled if you even

said the C-word.

Although we were

nominally Muslim, we

were hardly devout, so I

never understood why. It was

already a battle to fit in; this

only made things worse.

I wished so much for

Christmas. I made deals with

God every year. Just one

present with foil paper and a

big bow? OK, OK — how about

decorations? A special meal

where we get dressed up and

wear paper hats and

everyone is happy?

But I knew the one thing I

wanted more than presents

or sprouts was a Christmas

tree. A magical alpine visitor

decorated with shiny globes

and twinkly lights, it sits fat

and overdressed in your

living room for weeks. It

cheers you on bitter, cold,

dark nights; it casts a warm,

protective amber glow over

the faces of your family; it

incubates presents.

Of course, this was out of

the question. For my entire

childhood and until I bought

my own place at 24, we had

The

whole

thing

was an

utter

mess

after

three

days

All my Christmases

have come at once

... finally, aged 50,

I have my first tree

A spruce you blow up

yourself? Balloonacy

This season’s ‘must-have’ decoration is

hell to build and anything but green

liked the post, it sparked a backlash from

some, who branded the tree “a load of

plastic tat” and “completely unsustaina-

ble for just a few days of the year” in their

comments. John Lewis said the balloon

sculpture was 80 per cent biodegrada-

ble. Ginger Ray, the tree’s makers, did not

respond to requests for comment.

Laura Young, an environmental activ-

ist and regular contributor on the Sky

News Daily Climate Show, said: “I don’t

know why retailers thought this would go

down well.

“Balloon displays are so unnecessary.

This costs £25 so you could get a real tree

or invest in a long-term plastic tree for

that price. It seems a bit pointless, like it’s

solving a problem that’s not there.

“With many things that are labelled as

biodegradable or compostable it may

only break down in really specific condi-

tions or take years to do so in landfill and,

let’s be honest, these balloons are going

to be popped straight after Christmas and

sent to landfill.”

@Louise_Eccles

b

Louise Eccles

spent 2 ½ hours

building the

Ginger Ray tree.

For others, the

process took

even longer

VICKI COUCHMAN FOR THE SUNDAY TIMES

placed in the hands of those

who know how to use them.

“He gets a lot of requests

for real animals, especially

puppies, but there is a really

quite strict rule about no live

animals on the sleigh because

it would be such a bumpy

ride for them.”

Wood, who used to work

for Bonhams, has seven elves

who help to answer the

letters. Personalised letters

from Father Christmas cost

£22.99 through the Polar Post

while standard letters cost

from £15.99. Royal Mail offers

a free service for standard

letters and the NSPCC offers

personalised letters in return

PLEASE CAN I HAVE A SATSUMA?

for a donation. This year

5,000 Polar Post letters were

sent free to children in

hospices and refuges.

Wood said: “It’s such a

lovely job and I think it’s sort

of taken on a new meaning in

the last couple of years. I’m

starting to see the role that

Father Christmas plays in

children’s lives. He has been a

great source of comfort for

them and he’s a force for

good, isn’t he? He’s always got

some comforting words.

More than anything, they just

want to know that he’s going

to make it through to them.”

Editorial, page 30

“This year

please can I

have a litter picker

so I can become an eco

warrior.” Rose, 7

“All I would like for

Christmas this year is 48

yards of strong cord

please.” Edward, 8

“Please can I have

a teddy bear who

I can cuddle at

night.”

Sophia, 6

“Please can I have a magic

wand with REAL

magical powers?”

Maisy, 7

“I’ve been a really good boy.

Please can I have a

satsuma.” Harry, 3

“PS I would like a real-life

shark please.” Jonah, 5

That night we decorated it,

and it will always be one of

my most special memories.

Her first tree was mine too,

half a century in the waiting. I

had no idea how you did it,

but I had stared longingly at

enough trees over the

decades to have a rough idea.

Tinsel was eschewed in

favour of warm, low fairy

lights and a collection of

beautiful blue glass peacocks

and translucent snowflakes

that I had for some reason

collected in the past few years

in anticipation of the big day –

a bit like a wedding trousseau.

In the evening light the

glow from the tree lit up her

happy face, and I understood

yet again the simple joy a tree

brings to children, no matter

how lopsided and amateurish

it is. In her face I saw the six-

year-old I could have been —

and I made peace with her at

last. I opened a cupboard and

cried quietly into it; then I

turned back and we danced

in front of it. Next year our

tree will be even bigger. And

Christmas will never be

ruined again.

Aasmah Mir presents Times

Radio Breakfast with Stig Abell