Angus Mayer – my friend.

Angus Mayer

This simple remembrance of a friend was delivered at his funeral on 24th September 2016 at The Wenallt Chapel in Cardiff. Angus was a one off – one of life’s great individuals. He and his wife Margaret, whom he adored, are the central characters in a wonderful love story. Their family is truly one of the kindest you will ever meet. It’s a privilege to call them my friends.

My friend

Jean and I were speaking with Angus just a couple of days before he left us and he held Jean’s hand and through his tears he said, ‘I have always tried to be a good man.’ As he said it I smiled and thought to myself. ‘No Angus you are not a good man…. you are a great man!’

In my eyes, that’s what he was – a great man and a great friend.

Somehow, I knew that the time between us meeting like this to say goodbye to Margaret and meeting again to say goodbye to Angus would be a short one and so it turned out. They were inseperable in life and will now be inseperable in death.

Angus left us a little while ago and we are here because of his influence on our lives. For you his family… your lives were intertwined with his from the moment you were born. For others of us who are here, our lives crossed Angus’s at different times and in different contexts in the course of time. No matter what our connection with him we will never be the same again because of the man he was. We are all a part of the wonderful legacy that Angus and Margaret Mayer have left behind.

This morning as we mourn his passing, we are also celebrating Angus’s life. I believe life is a gift from God. It’s a gift made to be full of experiences, people and events. We had the privilege of knowing him and loving him and walking along the path of life with him.

In knowing Angus we have, hopefully become better people.

I was first introduced to Angus and Margaret soon after I started courting Jean. She told me of this wonderful family she knew and visited regularly. She just loved her visits to Fairfax Road. Without fail, she was welcomed every time, you children were asked to budge up and make room and a plate of something homemade and special was put in front of her. It was only later in life that Jean realised that Angus and Margaret were probably giving her their own food. But they did it willingly. That’s the kind of people they were!

Jean loved her visits and longed one day to have a family of her own just like The Mayers.

For me… I loved both Angus and Margaret from the very first time I met them and my love for them both never stopped growing. We were frequent visitors to their home down through the years and it became our custom to visit them every Christmas Eve. Each year one of his terrines was opened up and each year he would say the same thing…

’I wouldn’t cut this before Christmas Day for anyone else you know!’

Last year it was a Christmas Cake. He was very proud that Cath had made it.

Last week, we promised Gus that wherever he was, we would still visit him on Christmas Eve. He appreciated that! You can be sure we would have kept that promise and you can also be sure he and your mum will always hold a special place in our hearts and we will remember them in a special way on December 24^th!

One by one our children were introduced to him. The first time my son Gareth visited, Margaret informed us that Gus was in the greenhouse. Out in the garden we were met by a great cloud of feathers and suddenly Angus’s booming voice came through the cloud! He was busy plucking pheasants. It’s a story we retell at regular intervals!

Kate, my daughter, was fascinated this year when Gus met us wearing an old cardigan which had a massive paper clip attached to the zip, replacing the obviously broken orignal. To me that summed up the lovely man that Gus was… quirky, eccentric, funny and so very interesting. I loved just sitting and listening to him tell his stories! Your dad was a master storyteller. He was the best cook I ever knew, his cross stitch skills were remarkable and one of our prized posessions is a signed and framed cross stich of Creation – Day One that Angus made for us several years ago. Trust me every time we pass it we smile and think of our lovely friend.

He loved life – cooking, decorating, building, gardening at home and at the allotment , fishing, but most of all he loved his family. His face would light up when he spoke of you all.

Death robs us of much – never again will we have Angus with us, no longer will we hear his voice, see his smile – no more hugs and handshakes. Gone is the chance to tell him things you wanted to say.

How are we going to cope? We have something to help – a great and wonderful gift

The gift of memory…

Remember how much he loved your mum. Remember him as your wonderful father, grandfather and your friend. Talk about him often. Talk about him with each other and keep his memory alive. Remember the fun times.

One day he said to me ‘Roger I could never be a teacher’

I didn’t have the foresight to say ‘But Gus, you are a teacher already!’

He didn’t realise all the things he taught us all about living life to the full, about overcoming life’s obstacles, about filling life with great experiences and about LOVING!

Let us promise that the good Angus and Margaret showed to us in their lives, we will now show to others and keep their memory alive!

They are gone.

We can shed tears that they are gone
or we can smile because they have lived.

We can close our eyes and pray that they will come back
or we can open our eyes and see all they’ve left for us to remember.

Our hearts can be empty because we can’t see them
or they can be full of the love we shared together.

We can turn our back on tomorrow and live for yesterday
or we can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

We can remember them and only that they’ve gone
or we can cherish their memory and let it live on.

We can cry and close our minds, be empty and turn our backs
or we can do what Angus and Margaret would want:

Smile….open our eyes……

love each other like they did…

and go on.

Doris Catherine Wilson

Tribute to Doris Wilson

Always my Aunty Doris

Gone From My Sight

(Bishop Trent)

I am standing upon the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white

sails to the morning breeze and starts

for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength

I stand and watch her until at length

she hangs like a speck of white cloud

just where the sea and sky come

to mingle with each other

and someone at my side says ‘She is gone.’

Gone where?

Gone from my sight, that is all. She is just as large now as when I last saw her. Her diminished size and total loss from my sight is in me, not in her.

And just at that moment, when someone at my side says she is gone, there are others who are watching her coming over their horizon and other voices take up a glad shout – There she comes!

That is what dying is ~a horizon and just the limit of our sight.

………………..

We have come together this afternoon to thank God for the life of a remarkable lady, Doris Catherine Wilson, but to me always my aunty Doris, the best storyteller I ever knew!!

I am honoured to speak on behalf of the family and pay tribute to someone who played such a special part in all our lives. Doris was special; she was a people person. She was someone who believed in people.

We come together today not only to mourn her passing but also to celebrate her life.

Doris was born on 5th December 1921 to William and Florence Surringer who lived in Sophia Street in Tiger Bay, Cardiff. Life in that part of the city was tough in those days. Doris grew up well cared for and loved. She was married at 18 years of age to William Wilson, who was home on leave from the forces. Straight after the wedding he was called away to serve his country in Gibraltar for two years.

Bill and Doris were blessed with 5 wonderful children, Billy, Ian, Jamie, Neil and Barbara.

During the war years Doris worked in a shop, whilst beginning the job of raising her family.

After the war she skilfully balanced the needs of her growing family with a full time job in Lloyds Foundry in Cardiff. It was hard, hot and heavy work where her job as a pourer brought her into close proximity to the furnaces… It also brought her into close proximity to a close group of friends and each day Doris would cook their breakfast and lunch on the brazier in the foundry. She loved to look after people ~ people were her life! This was evident all the way through her life. Children were everything, especially her own children, who remained so close to her right to the end.

Doris had a generous heart. At one time she was in hospital receiving treatment. In an adjoining bed was a young Algerian lady called Aziadi with her daughter Nesli. She was a stranger but on hearing of her child care difficulties Doris offered to look after the young Nesli while Aziadi was at her studies. Later on when the family had to move out of their flat, again Doris came to the rescue and gave the family a home for over a year – a huge commitment that just typifies Doris’s caring ways. Nesli now lives in Edinburgh and Aziadi is back home in Algeria, but there will always be a very special place in their hearts for ‘Nanny Doris’.

Doris made everyone feel special and everyone was special to her. She was wonderful at caring for people – her dear husband Bill in his later life needed many months of full time care as did her mum, my Nan ~ Doris freely gave that care at no thought to her own health needs. She would never hear talk of putting them in hospital or a home; she would look after them, come what may. She probably saved the NHS many thousands of pounds. When the doctor came calling he would often refer to their little house in Llanedeyrn as Mrs Wilson’s Ward. She had Bill in one room and her mum in another both receiving the very best care!

Testimony to her loving care for those she loved!

Doris was a survivor and overcame a number of great sadnesses in her life.

In 1966 there was the motorcycle accident involving her youngest boy Neil It left him with severe difficulties throughout his life.
In 1992 the loss of Ian in tragic circumstances, followed by her husband Bill and then her mum and in more recent times the passing of Neil, took its toll. Throughout she endeavoured to remain strong, the rock on which her family could rely. She never let them down and she has left them with a remarkable legacy. She was so proud of her family. She leaves 9 grandchildren

Jeanette and Paul
Craig and Debbie
Tracey and David
Joanne and Nicola
Julie
…. and one adopted (Unofficial) granddaughter Vicky. To all you grandchildren I will, say this you were all special to your Nan; treasure her memory.

and 11 Great grandchildren

Michelle, David, Emily and Jake, Jack, Kyle, Rachel, Ross, Grant, Mere Florence and Lucca (the twins!!) As you grow up I hope you will appreciate what a great person your great grandmother was!

The family have asked me to pass on their thanks too to some very special people in Doris’s life.

Joyce, Neil and Caroline and their children Rees and Donna. Joyce met Doris when she became carer for Bill during his long illness and I am sure you are not surprised that she soon became a close family friend, Doris was like that. Joyce, Neil and graham from the bottom of our hearts… Thank you for your love and kindness.

Also

Val from Monmouth. They met by accident but in recent times Val would travel from Monmouth almost every day to see Doris and make sure she was OK. Val ~ thank you. Your kindness was appreciated.

Doris believed in God and now she is at rest with her heavenly Father, which is far better.

I leave you with another poem, which I believe Doris could have written herself…

She is gone.

We can shed tears that she is gone
or we can smile because she has lived.

We can close our eyes and pray that she’ll come back
or we can open our eyes and see all she’s left for us to remember.

Our hearts can be empty because we can’t see her
or they can be full of the love we shared together.

We can turn our back on tomorrow and live for yesterday
or we can be happy for tomorrow because of our yesterdays.

We can remember her and only that she’s gone
or we can cherish her memory and let it live on.

We can cry and close our minds, be empty and turn our backs
or we can do what she would want:

Smile,

Open our eyes,

Love each other…

…and go on.

The following letter was written by Tracy Scheff, Aunty Doris’s granddaughter who lives in the U.S.A. Tracey would have loved to have been present at the funeral, but it was not possible. This very personal and loving letter shows clearly the love between this incredible lady and the granddaughter who treasured her! In recognition of the 10 year anniversary of losing, Doris I attach it here with Tracy’s permission.

My letter to Nanny.

February 15, 2007
To my Nanny,
My heart is broken today. I lost my beloved Nanny Wilson. My true Nanny, my favorite Nanny, my special Nanny. Even though you were 3,000 miles away, you were always very close to my heart. I always wished you lived here in the US with me and my other grandmother was living in Wales.
From the moment I met you, I felt an instant connection even though I was only three years old. You were everything a perfect grandmother is but much more. You were caring, witty, sensitive but strong, compassionate, smart, loving, you had a tremendous love for your family, you had this fire inside that you would do ANYTHING for your children, grandchildren, family, friends, other children in need, you were selfless, always caring about other people, you never forgot a birthday, holiday, or special event. I can go on and on. I admire your qualities and strive to be just like you. I feel like we share so many of those qualities. I’m proud you are my grandmother.
All of my memories of you are fond ones. From my first visit to Wales at three, I remember the special room you had made up just for your grandchildren. From the baby dolls, to the little cars I used to play with on the mat in front of your front glass door, I remember how the light would shine through and make different colors on the mat, to the little white peddle car with the big red number on it. I loved that car, I wanted to take on the road, but I remember only being allowed to play with it on your patio, it was still fun anyway.
I remember my second visit when I was nine. You had a Birthday party just for me, with decorations and cake. I felt so special. I remember you giving me money to go to the local store and get my favorite strawberry yogurt. I think I ate all of the ones you had in your refrigerator. I remember you and Granfy making my favorite toast with the bread you had to cut and the yummy butter slathered on.
I remember my third visit when I was 18, you couldn’t believe how much I’ve grown. You kept thinking I was a little girl. I remember and miss your squeeze hugs. I do the same thing to my children all of the time. I squeeze them tight not wanting to let go.
I have nothing but fond memories. Memories that make me smile. I remember how much you spoiled my children. I remember the packages you sent, the candy, the clothes. I felt bad for just the amount of money it cost you just to send the package alone, but knew you enjoyed it.
I remember your visits to the US. I remember what you had to go through to get on a plane and be in a car for a long period of time. I knew how claustrophobic you were, but you didn’t let that stop you. I couldn’t wait to spoil you. It was now my turn. I loved getting you presents, especially trying to make sure whatever I bought said “made in the USA”. I wouldn’t dare buy you anything that said “made in France”. I loved buying you things that meant something special to you. I know how much you loved photos, so I always made sure it had something to do with photos. Whether it was the locket I got you with a picture of David and me in it or the wooden photo box that I had engraved for you.
I have a special gift for that you I was not able to send to you in time. I’m very sad that you didn’t get to see it because I know you would have loved it. It is a tin of butterscotch candy (I know how much of a sweet-tooth you have) with a picture of Corey, Kyle, Rachel and myself in front of the Disney World Cinderella Castle scanned right onto the tin. I will save the tin and always remember you when I look at it. I will keep it exactly the way it is and not let anyone ever touch a piece of candy in it. It is for you.
My heart aches, my tears flow, but I am comforted to know that you are looking down from heaven with Granfy, Uncle Ian and Uncle Neil. When Rachel and Kyle asked why I was crying when I found out about your passing, I told them that Nanny Wilson is in heaven and you have another guardian angel watching over each of you. I will teach my children all about you and what an amazing, wonderful, caring, strong great-grandmother they had.
I hope you know how much you meant to me, how much I love you and thought the world of you. I will miss you, never forget you and always remember you. I love you my Nanny. I will not say goodbye, but see you again one day.
Love your granddaughter,
Tracy

Mick Hunt – my friend

Memories of a dear friend…

Mick Hunt – my friend.

This is a copy of my memories of my friend, given at the Service of Thanksgiving for his life in Birkenhead, near Liverpool on Tuesday 26th May 2015. I shared these memories with the family – a family we did not know at the time – but who have now become our dear friends.

We have travelled 216 miles to be with you today and need to travel 216 miles back home later but today miles mean nothing, it’s a privilege to be with you all as we celebrate my friend Mick’s life. Last week we were in Spain and I would have travelled back from there if I it meant I could be with you all on this special day. Mick was our friend. We loved him dearly!

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak about this lovely man.

Mick and I met sometime in the 1980s I guess, when Mick came with a friend called Clive Williams to run Open Air Mission beach meetings on Barry Island beach in The Vale of Glamorgan. Mick and Clive made a superb double act. Different as chalk and cheese but men who shared a common desire to share the Christian message with anyone they could. After experiencing trouble in Barry, where their vans were stoned and broken into, they parked their caravans on our church car park at Bethesda Chapel in Dinas Powys. My wife Jean and I were Youth Leaders at the time and we became very friendly and a friendship soon grew with the young people and us and it led to Mick spending a lot of time in our home.

Mick and I too, were very different in many ways, but that only sought to bring us close. Mick was my spiritual father and taught me so much about life and living life as a Christian. We spent many hours talking about Christian things. He was just a wonderful man. I loved to hear him preach and Jean and I, and anyone else who was around, used to sit enthralled, as he would tell us stories about his work with the Open Air Mission, especially his escapades with his dear old friend Clive. The story of Clive’s visit to a hospital with gallstones is forever etched on our memories. Clive, in desperate pain, struggling with a hospital gown, putting it on the wrong way around and Mick struggling to protect Clive’s modesty, while comforting and encoring his old friend. I still giggle every time the story comes to my mind. He shared with us many anecdotes, like the ones about being made to listen to Clive’s LP records of steam train sound effects and bird songs. Visits to the famous Dai Woodham train scrapyard in Barry were a must for Clive every year and Mick always tagged along.

Even after he retired he would often drive down to spend time in our home. We loved him and the whole church loved him. He even spent holidays with us when he could. When we were in Craven Arms, Tewkesbury and Dulverton in Devon and many other places, he joined us and we spent happy times together.

I think he loved us in South Wales. We certainly loved him.

One special memory I have is about an old Bible. During one visit to us in the early nineties Mick was admiring my new loose leaf Bible, he said he had been looking for one like it for ages. As he was leaving at the end of the visit, I ran after him and gave him the Bible. At first he refused it, but eventually took it with him. During the years he had it, he used it well and we often spoke about it. Several months ago he gave it back to me. It’s one of my greatest treasures. I gave it to him brand new. He returned it battered and stuck with sellotape… and full of sermons! During the time he had it that Bible and the messages he preached will have touched many lives for good. I will NEVER give it away again!

We made many visits to see Mick and once joined him in Chester Market, where he had a stall selling Christian books, cards and stuff like that!

Mick with Kate.

In 1991 Mick came to us with an idea. He had recently got involved with a charity called Operation Christmas Child based in Wrexham. It took aid out to Romanian orphanages.

He wanted our church Young People’s Choir to come up to Wrexham and sing in a concert at the William Ashton Hall. We did it and had such a great time performing and meeting Mick’s family for the first time.

As far as I can see Mick only had one real bad flaw in his character. He was a Chelsea fan and my son Gaz and I would tease him endlessly about it. We tried hard over the years to convert him to supporting a proper team like Manchester United but we failed. Mick would have left us earlier this month happy that his beloved Blues were the champions! I will miss those happy times.

One thing for sure is that he loved his family. He spoke of you all constantly and I teased him all the time about the fact that he gave all his girls the same first name… Our Bev, Our Amanda and Our Marie.

To you, his family, daughters, sons in law, grandchildren… let me tell you this…you all meant the world to him. Every time I was with Mick he spoke affectionately and at length about you.

If I am honest I don’t think he ever really got over losing your mum, which, I believe, was a sadness he always carried with him. He loved her. He loved you all and spoke proudly of you and all the things you had done done. When Rebecca rang to tell us the sad news of Mick’s passing, it was as if we knew her.

Jean and I were so very grateful for the phone calls from Bev and Rebecca, when you let us know of Mick’s passing. I told Mick constantly that I was worried if any thing happened to him I would want to know. It always brought a chuckle from him. He said he would arrange it… and he did. Thank you so very much, although it was the phone call I always dreaded.

Mick meant so much to us in our family and in our church in South Wales. In the eyes of the world maybe just a simple man who had a tough start in life, but to us a true friend, a Christian brother and a truly great man.

Treasure your memories and always be proud of your dad. We will always love him and will certainly never forget him.

Talk about him often. Talk about him with each other and keep his memory alive. Always remember the love that he had for his children and grandchildren, the community and the poor times of his childhood. Remember the fun times and there were so many of these! The Bible tells us – there’s a time to mourn and a time to laugh. Remember his example.

Mick loved people, hence his work with the Open Air Mission and he had a way of drawing out the best from people.

He taught us all that no matter who you are or whatever hardship you face you are always able to GIVE and always able to LOVE.

Our biggest gift to him now is to be thankful that he is at peace and to seek to be as strong and courageous in our loss as he was in throughout his wonderful life.

Let us promise that the good Mick showed to us in his life, we will now show to others and keep his memory alive!

……………………………………………………………………………………….

A few friends from South Wales have sent their love and best wishes.

Llinos and Graeme Burt

I’ll never forget helping at Barry Beach Mission with Mick. He was such a lively character. I’m grateful for the opportunity he gave us as 15/16 year olds to try new things. It was Mick who encouraged us to play Clive’s accordion. The kids loved him – even with his tattoos!

Jason and Kate Erickson

Mick was a great man of God, I always remember his passion for Jesus in life and in the beach missions he did with Clive! We spent many great holidays in Devon and Cornwall, often debating how much he disliked Man United lol 🙂

A rough and ready, tough looking, kindhearted man of God… I loved him!

Natalie Rolley

Mick was such a lovely man. Still remember him putting a tattooed finger into my son Stephen’s mouth when he was about 4 weeks old to comfort him. Jean and I were looking at each other in horror, but knowing he meant no harm. I’m so saddened to hear the news but know heaven has now got an amazing character with the biggest heart xxx

Sharon Wilson

Loved working with Mick as a teenager at the holiday clubs, so many memories of being on Barry Island beach and the caravan parked out the back of the church. Over the years Mick became a dear friend, who visited us on many of our group Easter holidays. Visited him once in Coedpoeth and we were touched that he had been out to buy us cakes and croissants for breakfast.

Gareth and Keri Newberry

Mick was brilliant and a great friend. We talked about anything, but especially we loved talking football. My favourite Mick saying? ‘He’s a lemon!… an absolute lemon!’ I loved his stories of his travels with his sidekick Clive Williams and the other stories of preaching in the tough parts of Liverpool and the time he got his car wheels nicked! Priceless!! He was a great friend to my dad and a great friend to me.

Bethany Davies

I loved it when Mick came to visit us. I was really young. I remember he slept in the downstairs bedroom and always got up early to read his Bible. He used to walk around with me standing on his feet. I really loved Mick – I will miss him.

Lisa Newberry

I will always think of Mick and smile at the banter we used to have! I loved that full on mickey taking (no pun intended!) that you used to get with him and the fact that you always knew that he only did it because he liked you and enjoyed the challenge! I won’t go into the time that we visited him (Sharon refers to it!) and I had food poisoning from an Ogmore Vale custard slice…. Bad times

Heidi Trotman

Ahhh…. Mick a great friend and a great character. Many happy memories of time spent with Mick in Dinas Powys.

Mark and Julie Thompson

We have spent so many happy times with Mick over the years. We especially enjoyed coming to Wrexham, where I conducted the choir. A great man with a great heart! Much missed. Our thoughts are with his family.

Jean Newberry

Mick was a true friend in every sense of the word. He shared our home, he shared our church and he shared our lives. He was funny, genuine and one of my very best friends. Rog and I adored him.

Kevin Welch

Only heard him speak once, but what a story. He’s in a better place now.

…………………………………………..

He is gone.

We can shed tears that Mick is gone

or we can smile because he has lived.

We can close our eyes and pray that he’ll come back

or we can open our eyes and see all that he’s left for us to remember.

Our hearts can be empty because we can’t see him

or they can be full of the love we shared together.

We can turn our back on tomorrow and live for yesterday

or we can be happy for tomorrow because of our yesterdays.

We can remember him and only that he’s gone

or we can cherish his memory and let it live on.

We can cry and close our minds, be empty and turn our backs

or we can do what Mick would want:

Smile,

Open our eyes,

Love each other…

…and go on.

Post Script

We attended Mick’s funeral, or better put the Thanksgiving service for his wonderful life and Tuesday 26th May 2016. The funeral was held in Landican Crematorium in Birkenhead.

The service was held in the beautiful South Chapel, which was such a lovely setting. Proceedings were led by Rob Jeffs a wonderful old man who sounded so like Mick when he spoke. He was superb! Friendly, funny and serious at different times, just when he needed to be, He put the family at ease and reminded us what an amazing character Mick was. The truth of Mick’s Christian faith shone through so clearly. It was a service which honoured God and helped us all give thanks for the wonderful life that Mick lived. Unlike any other crematorium I have ever visited, the service was relaxed and we never felt rushed. After the service we introduced ourselves to the family and instantly new friendships began.

The wake followed at The Basset Hound, nearby hostelry. This, too, was a lovely place, homely and friendly. We were given a private space where we shared stories of Mick. Mick’s family are wonderful and we saw immediately why he loved them so much.We had a beautiful time with Mick’s family and left with armloads of food from the buffet for our long journey home.

After leaving The Basset Hound, we made one last emotional journey to see Mick’s bungalow. Mick lived in Bethany Crescent in Bebington. This is a lovely crescent of bungalows built in 1927 by a chap called Archie Boulton.

The trust that was set up in his name is listed in the charity commission as

A H BOULTON TRUST

TO AID THE ERECTION AND MAINTENANCE OF BUILDINGS USED FOR THE PREACHING OF THE GOSPEL, RELIEVING THE SICK OR NEEDY OR OFFERING FINANCIAL ASSISTANCE TO INDIVIDUALS CONSIDERED TO BE DESERVING BY THE TRUSTEES

Mick was offered a home here because of his long commitment of preaching the Christian message which meant so much to him.

We looked in through the window of his bungalow, and it was as if he had just left. His old chair was there – empty now – and the picture Becky Thomson had drawn on one of the holidays Mick had been with us, was on the fireplace as it always was. His Chelsea picture was there too… We thought and talked about Mick, smiled a bit, shed a tear or two but above all else left happy because of this lovely man who had made such an impact on our lives.

Thank you Mick!

Noman the Snowman

Noman the snowman was sad; nobody liked him. All his friends made fun of him because he had green sticking out teeth. Other snowmen had nice teeth that were made from coal, like proper snowman’s teeth, Noman had green teeth and they stuck out a bit.

Chapter 1

All his friends said, “Noman you don’t clean your teeth…they’re green!”

But Noman did clean his teeth every night; he was a good snowman.

Noman wanted people to like him.

He wanted people to say nice things about his big pink buttons but nobody ever did.

He wanted people to say, ”Noman, I love your glasses, but nobody ever did

Noman was sad.

One very snowy night Noman got lost. It had been snowing hard and Noman lost his daddy and mummy and found himself in a garden. He had never been there before; it looked a little bit untidy. There was a lot of rubbish and some chairs that had not been put away for the winter.

Now Noman was even sadder.

When morning came he thought he would look for his daddy and mummy. He hoped he wouldn’t see his friends. He didn’t like it when people said he had green teeth.

As he was deciding which way to go to find somewhere safe and quiet, he heard some children’s voices. He saw three little children with their noses pressed up against the window of a house nearby. They were very excited, they had never seen snow before and they had never, ever seen a snowman before.

The children were called Mia, Alfie and Millie.

Noman was sad, he thought Mia, Alfie and Millie would make fun of his green teeth, he wanted to run away, but when he looked he didn’t have any legs.

When they were dressed the three children walked very slowly out into the garden.

Noman was a little bit scared of the children and the children were a little bit scared of Noman.

“What’s your name?” Mia asked in a very quiet voice.

“I’m Noman,” said Noman.

“You look sad,” Mia said and tried to cheer him up by giving him a snowball right on the top of his head. It looked like a funny little snowy hat.

Alfie was looking at Noman’s green sticking out teeth.

“You’ve got nice glasses,” Millie said. Noman smiled and hoped his teeth didn’t stick out too much. He tried to cover his mouth, but his arms were very thin.

“And I like your big pink buttons,” said Alfie.

Suddenly Noman didn’t feel sad anymore. He had found some new friends. They were not like his old friends. His old friends made fun of his green teeth.

One of Noman’s cruel friends.

“Can I stay with you today?” Noman asked his new friends.

“Yes, Yes, Yes!” they all said at the same time, “We have never seen a real snowman before and we want to be your friend. Noman felt warm inside.

Mia and Millie ran in to tell their daddy and mummy about their new friend. Alfie stayed in the garden with Noman.

He looked hard at the face of his new snowman friend and wondered if all snowmen had green sticking out teeth. Alfie had never seen a snowman before.

Chapter 2

‘I like you,’ Alfie said to Noman.

Alfie loved Noman’s stick arms. Alfie loved to pick up a stick every time he went for a walk. He thought it would be fun to have sticks for arms.

Alfie began to wish he was a snowman.

Alfie stared hard at his new friend. He wondered what it was like to be a snowman. He didn’t think he would like to be a snowman. He thought it would be a bit cold. Alfie liked to be warm and especially enjoyed cuddles with his mummy and daddy.

‘Do you like being cold all the time?’ asked Alfie.

‘Yes I do,’ said Noman. I love it. ‘What I don’t like is the rain and the sun, they are not good for me.’

Just then Mia and Millie came running back out into the garden. Noman hoped they would not mention his green, sticking out teeth.

Now it was Mia and Millie’s turn to stare at Noman.

Noman was a bit worried.

‘Why are you wearing sunglasses?’ Millie asked him quietly. Millie had a lovely pair of sunglasses but she only wore them in the summer when she went to the beach in Cornwall.

‘I wear sunglasses because I want to be a cool snowman and besides when I was made, my owner didn’t have any coal to use for my eyes,’ Noman replied in a voice nearly as quiet as Millie’s.

‘I like them,’ said Millie, ‘they suit you. You do look like a cool snowman. I am sad you have got no coal for your eyes.’

Noman thanked Millie for saying such kind things, he was not used to children saying nice things. Most of his old friends only made fun of him and his green, sticking out teeth.

Now it was Mia’s turn to ask her new friend a question.

‘Where are your daddy and mummy?’ she enquired. ‘Are you here on your own?’

Noman told the three children that he didn’t have a mummy or a daddy and that snowmen usually just lived on their own.

Mia, Millie and Alfie felt sad; they all loved their mummies and daddies very much, they were sad that their new friend didn’t have a daddy or a mummy.

Millie thought they could adopt Noman and he could live in their garden all year. She would ask he mummy later.

‘Do you have any friends?’ Alfie asked him, trying not to look at his green, sticking out teeth, which had started to chatter in the cold.

‘I have three friends, but I don’t see them very often.

One of them looks just like me and he wears sunglasses and a scarf too, but my best friend is called Olaf. He is very famous and he is a film star. We have been friends for a long time.’

Mia was so excited to hear this. She loved to watch Olaf in her favourite film.

Noman told Mia that he wanted to be in a film too but no one asked him because of his teeth.

Mia looked at Noman’s teeth. They did look a bit green, but she thought that he still looked very handsome.

“One of my friends is very rich, Noman told the children, ‘he lives in a big house and he has a real hat to wear on his head.’

Mia remembered the snowball hat she had made for Noman. She wished she could give Noman a nice hat just like his friend.

Just then Mia’s mum called them in for dinner and they said goodbye to Noman. They asked him to wait in the garden till they came back out. Noman said he had nowhere else to go and that he would see them later.

Noman felt happy to have three such lovely new friends.

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Tribute to Doris Wilson

Always my Aunty Doris

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