It sat there on the trestle table at the Sunday School Picnic. The bright morning sun glinted off it in a rainbow sparkle of colour. I had never seen anything so beautiful! It was surrounded by a myriad of other things, but I did not notice them. My ten year old eyes were drawn to it's seductive beauty. I was mesmerised. I knew that I had to have it.
Of course, this was going to be a huge challenge for me. I don't think I can do it! There were two obstacles between me and my special treasure, though. Firstly, I need to win the girls foot race this afternoon to claim it as my prize. Secondly, what if a winner of an earlier race claimed "my" coveted prize before me?
I could think of nothing else, my mind fixated on that ornate delight. All of the much anticipated fun activities of the day just faded into a background distraction. Who else would be in the race? Valerie? She was already ten inches taller than me, with long, long legs, so I just knew that she would run fast. Cheryl? More long legs and already being coached by her mother in tennis and basketball. Nola? Well, at least I should be able to beat her as she was even smaller than me and often unwell. But there were still the Wilson sisters, quiet girls, but tall as well. None of them went to my tiny school, so I didn't have any experience of their form. However, I was almost the smallest, so obviously I didn't stand a chance. I glanced over at the prize table, relieved to see it was still there, glowing in the strong afternoon sun.
Finally, the call that I was anxiously, fearfully waiting for - "Girls 10 to 13 years, 50 yards race, line up!"
Mum and Dad were at the side of the mown strip of grass in front of the Church, as I was taking off my shoes for the usual barefoot sprint. Dad whispered to me, "they're all too big to run fast! Just take off quickly and run like mad to the end. It's just a quick dash!" I remembered Dad's stories of his running prowess as a young man and I looked across at all those older, bigger girls and sensed a faint glimmer of hope.
The starting pistol went 'bang'!
I took off like Phar Lap! It's not far, just run lightly on your toes and watch the finish line. You are a little dynamo, you can beat them!
First through the tape held stretched out by our two Sunday School teachers.
I won! I won! Oh, please God, letit still be there on the table!
With shaking leg, the sprint or fear, I don't know, but yes! It was still in the centre of the table.
The most wonderfully pretty thing I had ever seen. I claimed it victoriously, the most perfectly, glamourous, gloriously golden pearlescence of a cup and saucer ever made! It was mine!
My heart was full of the pleasure of owning such a precious prize and the sense of achievement I felt in winning the race.
"That will be a lovely start to your Glory Box" suggested Mrs Horsted ad the table.
"That is really hideous," laughed Dad, "but good on you for running so fast."
My hideously beautiful cup and saucer has been carefully travelling with me for the last 60 years.
Of course, this was going to be a huge challenge for me. I don't think I can do it! There were two obstacles between me and my special treasure, though. Firstly, I need to win the girls foot race this afternoon to claim it as my prize. Secondly, what if a winner of an earlier race claimed "my" coveted prize before me?
I could think of nothing else, my mind fixated on that ornate delight. All of the much anticipated fun activities of the day just faded into a background distraction. Who else would be in the race? Valerie? She was already ten inches taller than me, with long, long legs, so I just knew that she would run fast. Cheryl? More long legs and already being coached by her mother in tennis and basketball. Nola? Well, at least I should be able to beat her as she was even smaller than me and often unwell. But there were still the Wilson sisters, quiet girls, but tall as well. None of them went to my tiny school, so I didn't have any experience of their form. However, I was almost the smallest, so obviously I didn't stand a chance. I glanced over at the prize table, relieved to see it was still there, glowing in the strong afternoon sun.
Finally, the call that I was anxiously, fearfully waiting for - "Girls 10 to 13 years, 50 yards race, line up!"
Mum and Dad were at the side of the mown strip of grass in front of the Church, as I was taking off my shoes for the usual barefoot sprint. Dad whispered to me, "they're all too big to run fast! Just take off quickly and run like mad to the end. It's just a quick dash!" I remembered Dad's stories of his running prowess as a young man and I looked across at all those older, bigger girls and sensed a faint glimmer of hope.
The starting pistol went 'bang'!
I took off like Phar Lap! It's not far, just run lightly on your toes and watch the finish line. You are a little dynamo, you can beat them!
First through the tape held stretched out by our two Sunday School teachers.
I won! I won! Oh, please God, letit still be there on the table!
With shaking leg, the sprint or fear, I don't know, but yes! It was still in the centre of the table.
The most wonderfully pretty thing I had ever seen. I claimed it victoriously, the most perfectly, glamourous, gloriously golden pearlescence of a cup and saucer ever made! It was mine!
My heart was full of the pleasure of owning such a precious prize and the sense of achievement I felt in winning the race.
"That will be a lovely start to your Glory Box" suggested Mrs Horsted ad the table.
"That is really hideous," laughed Dad, "but good on you for running so fast."
My hideously beautiful cup and saucer has been carefully travelling with me for the last 60 years.
Jill Gaumann
March 2023
March 2023