Loss of Faith

Loss of faith It was Christmas Eve 1947 A knock on the door, I stopped breathing Santa entered with a bag slung across massive shoulders I saw it was, Mrs Stream next door She was an extraordinary woman who managed to get fat in the war years I thought the bastards had been telling my lies all those years. I bet the Jesus stuff is lies to Get us children to behave and say thank you. I lost my faith but didn't tell anyone I was given woolly socks and a fire engine made of wood It was easy to bribe back then