Andrea Mara

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Christmas cards

Andrea Mara

Christmas Through Their Eyes

My eyes water. Wind, sharp and stinging, pushes my hood down and ┬ádrives me back. I lean in, but not in a Sheryl Sandberg way. I’ve got 58 minutes and five tasks. Stocking fillers. A fancy gift box. A Secret Santa pick-up. Stamps. A book. Dark shapes huddle under hoods,

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Christmas card casualty

“Mum can I tell you something?” I looked down at the sad little face of my four-year-old and tensed slightly, hoping it would be that she was thirsty or hungry (states often inexplicably accompanied by a sombre tone) “Today the twins in my class – you know Sarah and Robert*?

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