What Christmas means to the Sheffield woman who helps hundreds every year

Following the death of Gloria’s beloved mum, Lil, on Christmas Day, the festive season was tinged with sadness for Gloria, becoming ‘Mrs Christmas’ in the process.

For years she has put on events across Sheffield during the festive period to help for those in need – including free Christmas lunches.

Despite the pandemic and the sudden death of her daughter, Jeinelle, earlier in the month this year, Mrs Christmas is still determined to deliver Christmas to the vulnerable in Sheffield this year, saying ‘It broke my heart to think of anyone spending the day alone’.

Home Alone at Christmas, an event organised by Gloria, has delivered more than 200 festive hampers to people across Sheffield who are isolated, lonely or vulnerable this Christmas.

Each hamper is filled with a range of festive treats including mince pies, chocolates, and cheese and crackers, along with essentials such as teabags.

Mrs Christmas said: “I’ve been running the Home Alone event for fourteen years now and I’ve always said, if we can make a difference to just one person that makes me happy.

“Although we can’t meet up for our normal Christmas lunch this year, I wanted the event to keep going in some way and I hope we can still put some smiles on faces with our hamper deliveries."

This is what Christmas means to Mrs Christmas:

Over the years, Christmas has evoked many different emotions for me from happy to sad, devastation to elation, all stemming from what life has dealt me.

I grew up in poverty, so as little girl I learnt very quickly to be grateful for the little things. A rag doll, a small jigsaw and an orange in a pillow case at the end of my bed, was enough and would keep me entertained for days.

Despite the harsh ‘hand-to-mouth’ times we lived in, Mum and Dad never turned away a hungry friend, on Christmas Day, making our small joint of meat and pile of Yorkshire puddings go that little bit further.

After I met my husband, Mike, and financially life wasn’t as hard, I insisted we took my parents shopping every Christmas for a new outfit each and they spent the day with us, where food was no longer scarce.

When my own four children came along, I overcompensated for my own childhood, spoiling them, never wanting them to feel the hardship I’d endured as a child.

Those magical years, as the kids woke up at the crack of dawn, and I watched as they excitedly ripped open their presents, Christmas became a time to treasure and enjoy.

But in 1992 my Mum died suddenly on Christmas Day morning. I was absolutely devastated and afterwards it was hard to associate the season with anything but sadness.

Every year afterwards, I would spend the day visiting my parent’s graveside, before painting on a smile for my children and later my grandchildren, who without even realising it, always made the day as special as possible.

In 2007, I started the Home Alone Christmas lunches after taking a relative to hospital and an elderly lady told me she would be taking a flask of tea and a packet of biscuits to bed and wouldn’t be getting up until the festivities were over.

It broke my heart to think of anyone spending the day alone. I guess it stemmed back to my own childhood, where days would pass and the only company I had where those I envisaged as I watched passengers on the buses go past from my bedroom window.

The Christmas lunch soon became a huge success, beginning with 67 people who would normally spend the season alone, to over 500.

This year, due to the pandemic and social distancing restrictions, I’m not able to hold the event, which fills me with sadness but instead I have delivered 200 food hampers to those who are isolating alone and families who are struggling financially, hoping they can at least have a good meal on Christmas Day.

For me, Christmas has always been about helping others.

If I can help just one person smile on a day that has so much emotion attached to it, then it makes all the hard work worth it.

Sadly, my daughter Jeinelle died suddenly on December 6 this year.

We are all struggling to come to terms with her death and another part of my heart has broken, but as always, I will paint on my smile on Christmas Day, just like she would want me to, and make sure our grandchildren still have the day they deserve.