Almost 23 million Brits will use credit cards to cover Christmas spending making a total of £14 billion on credit cards.
The winners of course are the billionaire business owners and manufacturers.
Christmas as a mum of young children was so exciting!
We had a comfortable lifestyle. My ex-husband and I owned a business and a couple of properties. But a good lifestyle came at a hefty price. It took an enormous amount of courage for me to call time on 20 years of marriage but I finally did it. I didn't expect what happened next. I thought I'd be financially secure with everything in joint names. I had no idea my husband had inserted a clause where either partner could close joint bank accounts and take control of everything without consulting the other.
The children and I were penniless. We had a roof over our heads but no money to survive. I believe the intent was to force me into giving up the children which would never have happened.
Without income, the gas and electricity were cut off. No food, no way to pay bills things were dire. I continued to allow the girls to stay over with their father once a week. Property and business owners don't qualify for assistance. My friends were very generous in cooking meals for us. My whole marriage was a sham, any man who could do this to his children and the woman whoI'd been so nieve in trusting my husband What made everything worse was my own nativity . otherwise we were dependent on my friends for help with food and hot water bottles.
It was less than a week till Christmas. The girls and I were snugged up on the sofa. it was warmer to sleep together on the sofa with three duvets over us.
One night, as I cuddled the girls I told them Santa wouldn't be able to come to our house that year (I knew their father would get them things but would keep them in his house). My youngest daughter didn't hear me she was almost asleep, but her sister heard me. She leaned close to me "It's okay mummy I don't need presents I have you and my sister".
That was the attitude in life that my precious daughter still has today.
I sat watching the girls sleeping. The price of remaining married so long was physically mentally and emotionally destructive. I was one of those cowardly women who didn't believe they were worth anything or had the means to survive on their own.
It was 3 nights till Christmas as I looked at my sleeping angels; my heart felt like it was breaking into a million pieces.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. I didn't want to light our last candle, so I felt my way along the wall to the door.
No one was there. I looked around, then spotted them: three large black bin bags. I was really puzzled, so I opened one to see what was in it. The street light shone on the bag and I couldn't believe my eyes. The bag was bursting with beautifully wrapped gifts with labels "girl age 6" and "girl age 4". All three bags were full to the brim with gifts of every shape and size all with the same two labels. I was stunned, flabbergasted. There was nothing to indicate where the bags had come from. I dragged them inside and put them in the cupboard, I couldn't stop grinning to myself imagining the surprise on my darling little daughters' faces.
I'd barely sat down when I heard another knock on the door. This time I saw two kindly-looking men standing on the doorstep. One of the men held two large black bags, and the other man held out a large box full of food. I was truly stunned. I hadn't asked anyone for help. didn't know help was out there. On top of the box of food was an envelope: "The bags have gift-wrapped presents for your daughters. Hopefully, the box of food will make sure the three of you eat, and there is £60 in the envelope for you". The men explained they were from a local Church which raised money to buy things and help needy families. I later found out the earlier gifts had come from another organisation which had a fountain at the local shopping centre. All the money that was thrown into the fountain went to help needy people.
I partly owned my home, partly owned another property and a business yet had been forced into this state of extreme poverty, and yet total strangers had decided my daughters and I deserved help. I'd had many wonderful Christmases before, as a child and as a mother, but nothing compared to this one. My gratitude, my endless humility, and my love for the strangers I had never met who took it upon themselves to make Christmas a beautiful time for my children and I.
My children are adults now, and parents too. One of my worldly 9-year-old grandsons told me, "There is no Father Christmas. It's just a myth". I assured him he was mistaken
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