The doll's house in Mullaney's window
THE Editor’s column last week on the delights to be found in the Christmas window toy displays of McCormack’s and Mullaney’s dredged up a memory that was long dormant; but when it surfaced the sense of dread and fear that was invoked in my eight-year-old heart was brought sharply back into focus.
As children in the 1960s trudging to school on the Dublin Road from all corners of the town on cold December mornings, we were in a state of heightened anticipation for the arrival of the toy display in the aforementioned windows.
Eagerly awaiting the unveiling of the windows in early December, our steps would quicken as we crossed the Square hoping that happy day had arrived and as we rounded the corner onto the Dublin Road the sight of a cluster of children with faces pressed to the glass heralded that arrival.
There was a squeeze and a bit of shoving as you tried to wangle your way to the front to get a prime view or else you hopped up and down on tip toe trying to get a glimpse over the heads of bigger boys and girls.
As children in the 1960s trudging to school on the Dublin Road from all corners of the town on cold December mornings, we were in a state of heightened anticipation for the arrival of the toy display in the aforementioned windows.
Eagerly awaiting the unveiling of the windows in early December, our steps would quicken as we crossed the Square hoping that happy day had arrived and as we rounded the corner onto the Dublin Road the sight of a cluster of children with faces pressed to the glass heralded that arrival.
There was a squeeze and a bit of shoving as you tried to wangle your way to the front to get a prime view or else you hopped up and down on tip toe trying to get a glimpse over the heads of bigger boys and girls.