Welcome to the December edition of Tell Us About….a monthly challenge where a group of bloggers from around the world take a prompt and interpret it any way they like. Last month’s prompt was Creativity. This month, Rosie chose Christmas Carol.
When I first saw that this month’s theme was Christmas Carol, my mind ping-ponged in a few different directions. First, the obvious ones — the book, the films, the cosy imagery of Dickens and all that. And then, straight away, I thought of the song. There’s this absolutely beautiful version of a track sung by Kate Winslet (from an animated adaptation she voiced in, I think?). It’s on one of my Spotify playlists and it stops me in my tracks every time. Her voice is so soft and pure — it feels like Christmas distilled into sound. Here it is, it’s called What If…
But then my brain did that little sideways shift it loves to do, and suddenly I was a child again. Christmas Eve. Portugal. A dark bedroom that never felt scary, just quiet. And me, lying in bed singing my favourite Christmas Carol, Silent Night to myself. Not in a sad, broody way — I was still excited for Christmas morning, like any kid — but there was always a layer of something deeper underneath. Losing my mum so young meant every Christmas carried that strange mix of joy and ache. Singing to myself was a way of holding both feelings at once.
And then, of course, there’s Carol.
The one who changed everything.
I met Carol in my late teens after switching from the big International School to a teeny tiny college where some classes were literally just me and two others. In one class I was the only student — imagine that! It was weird but brilliant all at once. Psychology A-Level was where I met her. She was fun but serious in all the right ways, with this grounded, thoughtful presence that made you want to be better. And she somehow saw something in me — a spark I didn’t yet recognise in myself.
She nudged me towards growth without ever pushing, and we bonded over life, philosophy and (I’m fairly sure!) a shared love of cooking. I think she was vegetarian, though my memory is fuzzy round the edges now. I introduced her to my dad and they clicked instantly. Before long, she’d moved in and everything felt steady, warm, promising.
And then life did that awful thing it sometimes does.
Her asthma attack came out of nowhere.
And she was gone.
It was devastating. My world just cracked open. My dad’s too. But even though she was with us for such a short time, she left a huge imprint on me. She introduced me to Louise Hay and gave me You Can Heal Your Life, which became one of the books that genuinely shaped who I became afterwards.
She also left me something unexpected… her perfume. Aromatics Elixir by Clinique. She wore it all the time and it became her. When she died, I inherited the bottle. I adored that scent, but Michael wasn’t a fan, so I didn’t buy it again. Fast-forward to a couple of weeks ago — we were in a perfume shop, I spotted it, sprayed it on, and asked him what he thought without letting on what it was. And of course he said he quite liked it! Typical! We were out shopping today and he bought me a bottle! (After writing this post, I wore it out to a party and he said I smelled like his gran 🤭🙄)
But the Carols don’t stop there.
A year or two ago, at an art exhibition, Michael and I met another Carol — well, Nicky Carol (apparently she was born near Christmas and her parents went for the obvious name choice). We’d been looking for a piece of art to buy with some money from selling his mum’s jewellery. The moment we saw her piece, I practically swooned. Michael, ever the sensible one, said we should look around the whole exhibit first. So we did… and then found ourselves circling back to that piece again and again.
Eventually we just gave in and bought it. It’s made of resin and wax, I think — honestly I’m still not 100% sure — but the way it catches the light is pure magic. Greens, purples, blues shimmering like something half-otherworldly. We kept it safely tucked away until we moved into our new home this year, and since then it’s already lived in three different places as we try to find its perfect spot. It’s the kind of artwork that makes you pause and just take a few moments to breathe.
And then there’s the quieter side of Christmas — the part many people don’t see.
Because without children, our holiday season has always been calm, almost still. Most of the time I love that, but occasionally — and Christmas is one of those times — I do briefly wish we’d had kids. Not in a heavy way. Just a soft little what-if. Our close families are small, my brother and his kids are in England, Michael’s stepdad is back in the UK too, and my dad is the only one here (there are other family members but we don’t have much to do with them anymore, sadly).
This year will be even quieter because some of our closest friends are away.
And to top it all off, my birthday falls on Boxing Day — and this year is my 50th! I’d imagined going somewhere special, doing something a bit magical… but we promised to look after friends’ pets, so the celebrating will need to wait a little. And honestly? That’s fine. Maybe I’ll just stretch the celebration across the whole year instead. A year-long 50th sounds far more fun anyway.
So yes — Christmas Carol.
It turns out it’s not just a story or a song.
It’s the memories, people who shaped me, little moments of magic, perfume bottles, shimmering artwork, soft childhood songs in the dark, and the quiet Christmases Michael and I have made our own.
And maybe that’s the real charm of the theme — it reminds us that sometimes the Carols in our life aren’t songs… they’re people, moments, echoes, and memories that stay with us long after the season ends. What do you think of when you think of Christmas Carol?
Don’t forget to check out how my fellow Tell Us About co-hosts interpreted Christmas Carol
- Sally — Sally considers some of her favourite versions of and variants on the Dickens tale “A Christmas Carol.” Within a World of My Own
- Marsha — Marsha writes about her favourite Christmas carol to play on handbells with a bit of a caveat. Marsha In The Middle
- Rosie — Rosie’s written a comedy version of the 12 Days of Christmas. Rosie Amber
- Mary Katherine — MK’s Adventures in Style
- Debbie — Debbie wonders why Australians still sing Christmas songs and carols about snow and cold weather when they’re boiling in mid summer. Deb’s World
