Operation Christmas Child 2009

One of my main identifiers is my status as a parent. When I was pregnant with The Boy, nobody warned me. Nobody warned me that, quite insidiously, this little person would come to dominate my thoughts, my actions, and would influence me in all that I did. Since having him, I genuinely want to be the best person I can be. I want to make sure that I never do anything that he can't respect, nothing that will embarrass him. I want to make the world a better place for him to live in, and I'll do what I can to make that happen.

Whilst pregnant with The Boy, I found myself unexpectedly single. I was in a strange situation where I was funding two places to live as I was still in a joint tenancy lease as well as having my own place, I was trying to buy items for the impending arrival of my child, and I was striving to keep as rational a mind as possible.

After I had The Boy, I had very little money. I was struggling to balance things fiscally, and ensuring that the money coming in covered what was going out, without the financial contribution of his biological father, or additional government help other than child benefit. It was a frightening time, one made more so by the very real concern that, if I fucked this up, it would have very grave consequences.

Despite this, have no doubt that the good of the situation far outweighed the bad. For the lack of money, we had an abundance of love and fun, and that, for me, went a long way to compensate for the material things we couldn't afford.

Money keeps you secure, keeps you fed, keeps you accommodated, but life is very long without fun.

The first Christmas The Boy and I spent together was a terrifying time. As a child, we had Christmas' were we didn't have presents, and I didn't want this to happen to my child. It wasn't the idea of the presents, or lack of, that concerned me. It was the fear that he would think that I didn't care - that no one cared for him.

I could afford one gift (a small bear, that he still has, that cost £1 from Adams). It wasn't much, but we had each other, we had a flat, we had food and we had love. I made decorations, prepared and hoped that it would be okay.

In the lead up to Christmas, something amazing happened. My darling friends deluged me with presents for The Boy. It meant so much to me that he wouldn't know the confusion of not getting anything, and it meant more that this was understood as my concern rather than a desire for things for him.

Things improved for us, greatly, and in subsequent years there was more available money. As this happened, I was determined to put something back. The first year, I contributed a present to Help a London Child, and bought small presents for local children who would have otherwise been in The Boy's situation. This increased over time. I still do this (along with stockings for local children), but I wanted to let you know about Operation Christmas Child.

Operation Christmas Child is a way to send presents to children who are living under almost unimaginable conditions. These kids live in a way that none of us will ever have to endure.

All you need to do is fill a shoebox with presents, for which there are suggestions, which you give to your local drop off point.

Could you imagine the joy of getting a shoebox of presents, when you have never received anything before? The happiness of a few things that were just for you? It is unimaginable to us to not have that. It is inconceivable to me that any person should be denied that, especially a child.

And yes - this blog is overly sentimental, it's anecdotal, it plays on the most unfair of emotional blackmails - but you could do this. You could change a child's life. Imagine.

Operation Christmas Child will be collecting boxes until November 18th 2009. You can get additional information at http://www.operationchristmaschild.org.uk/pages/what-OCC