I loved living on the farm,” Christina recalls, her eyes brightening at the memory. “We named all the horses, played in the barns, and had fun with the machinery. I loved it. But you always had to do what was necessary.” Life on her grandfather’s farm in Old Denaby, near Doncaster, meant chores, but for a lively little girl it also meant space to roam. Christina remembers playing with her cousins among the hay bales and sneaking peeks into the sheds where farming equipment loomed like mysterious giants.

Milking the cows was part of her everyday routine, though the real excitement often came from her older brother, Geffrey. “He was very confident, sometimes too confident,” she laughs. “I used to watch him climbing onto the roof of the stables and think, ‘he’s going to fall,’ but he never did. He was daring, and I was always keeping an eye on him.” Christina also had her fair of close calls. “I once got too close to the sack lift, which is a piece of equipment to lift bags or sacks. It gave me such a shock. I soon learned not to go near it again!”

Christina also had her fair of close calls. “I once got too close to the sack lift, which is a piece of equipment to lift bags or sacks. It gave me such a shock. I soon learned not to go near it again!”

In those early years, there was much warmth and laughter. She speaks of her mother, Constance Muriel, with great affection. “My mother was lovely. She looked after us,” she says. Her father, Arthur, was also a key presence, until his sudden illness changed everything. When Christina was six, her father went to the Doncaster races. Not long after, he fell ill.

“He picked up a germ and went into hospital,” she recalls quietly. “He just lived for another six months. It was a horrible time.” Arthur died in hospital in Sheffield, leaving Constance to raise Christina and her older brother, Geffrey, with the support of their grandfather.

Despite the sadness, the family pulled together. “We lived at my granddad’s farm, and my mother helped with the work. She’d grown up there herself.” Geffrey, though often hampered by asthma, dreamed of joining the RAF. “He always wanted to be in the RAF,” she says fondly. “But his asthma stopped him. He still did well for himself later in life.” The siblings remained close, bonded by loss but also by the resilience their mother taught them.

Christina started her education at Denaby village school, later moving on to senior school in Conisbrough, a short distance from the famous castle. Getting there was an adventure in itself. “The old school bus used to backfire all the way up the hill. I hated it. I always thought it would never make it!” she laughs. In the classroom, she explored her strengths. “I liked embroidery and drawing. I took pride in what I’d done,” she says. “But maths? No, I never liked it. English was better, especially poetry. But needlework was my favourite.” Her creative streak shone through in her projects. She remembers making cushion covers and small embroidered pieces, often receiving praise from her teachers. “They always thought I did the sewing and drawing well.”

At 14, Christina took up work as a wages clerk in a builder’s office. The job suited her methodical nature. “I liked doing the job I was employed to do,” she says. “I liked to do things properly.” She carefully logged hours and pay, ensuring that builders and labourers received fair wages for their work. She worked there until she was about 16, then moved to another office closer to town. These years were not only about work but also about friendship. “I made friends,” she remembers. “We used to go for walks after work or to the pictures. It was lovely.”

It was through her work that she met her future husband, Cyril. “You just take to them, don’t you?” she says simply of their first meeting. Cyril had served during the war and later became a builder. Christina remembers their courtship as ordinary but steady. “It wasn’t a big love story; it was just normal. But it felt right.” The couple married in 1955. After their wedding, they lived first in Brampton, Doncaster, and later at Stockeld Park near Wetherby, where Cyril continued his career in construction.

Christina and Cyril had one daughter, Susan, who brought new joy into their lives. “Susan was always a little missus,” Christina recalls fondly. “She never wanted to sit in the pushchair, she wanted to push it herself. Everyone in the local shops loved seeing her, she looked so sweet.” Later, Susan married and had two sons, Paul and James. Christina delights in her grandchildren. “My daughter and grandsons have all done well. I’m very proud of them,” she says with a smile.

Faith has been a steady thread throughout Christina’s life. As a child, she went to Sunday School at the local Church of England. “My friend and I were like little teachers to the others,” she remembers. As an adult, she attended church less regularly, not out of disinterest but because life grew busy. Yet faith remained present, and today she finds strength in devotional times at Emmaus House. “I like them,” she says. “They’re interesting and they make you think about your life.”

Christina has always loved to keep her hands and mind busy. “I like puzzles,” she says, “and I enjoy doing them with other people too.” Walking has also been a constant. “I’ve always enjoyed walking. When I was young, after work, my friend and I used to go for walks every evening, chattering about things.” Music brings her joy. “I used to like Elvis,” she says. “And I like country music, like Don Williams. I can listen to classical as well.”

Looking back on her long life, Christina reflects with simplicity and honesty. “The hardest time was when my father died. It was terrible. But the happiest times? I liked going to work, I really did. It doesn’t sound very exciting, but I enjoyed it.” Her advice to younger generations is straightforward: “Be happy in whatever you’re doing. If you don’t like it, leave it. Money isn’t everything, it’s more important to enjoy your work.”

Today, at Emmaus House, Christina feels at home. “It’s just perfect,” she says. “Everybody knows each other. I like having friends, like Ann. You couldn’t do without a friend.” She enjoys the activities, the homely atmosphere, and the sense of community.

At 97, Christina has lived through almost a century of change. Yet her outlook remains grounded in the everyday: pride in her work, love for her family, and gratitude for friendship and community. “I don’t have any big secrets,” she says. “Just everyday living. Do what you enjoy and take pride in it. That’s enough.”

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