All language subtitles for kerstspecial_seizoen_02

My first Christmas in Poplar was unlike
any other I had known.

The streets, like all streets, were
strung with coloured lights, and

drew up lists, like children everywhere.

As the days ticked down, it seemed as
though the district was fizzing with

delight.

But at Nonata's house, a different magic
was at work.

The sisters spent Advent in prayer and
meditation, and the atmosphere was not

one of excitement, but of expectant,
joyous calm.

I wasn't entirely sure what I should
make of it.

I was young, and faith was still a
mystery to me.

Nonata's house, midwife speaking.

It's me neighbour. She's started having
pains.

Name, please.

It was 11's, Lidburn Buildings.

You're meant to be sending her down the
hospital. She's already crying her eyes

out.

First one, she was in labour for three
days.

I'll come out and assess her, keep her
tucked up and warm until I get there.

It's all right, baby.

It's all right. Come on.

Mrs. Levens was very anxious at the last
appointment. I'll come with you to

reassure her and then go on to the
mastitis case.

Oh, draw for the crib. Well done, Sister
Monica Jo. I avail myself of the

kindness of some hostess in the market.

The spirit of the season would appear to
be amongst us.

to go to the hospital.

I had to have four deaths with the last
one.

Second stage, sister.

Don't distress yourself, Hilda. All is
well.

Please, everybody stand right back so we
can assist Mrs. Levens. It might help

if you were dispersed elsewhere.

Begging your pardon, this is the
communal toilet and I was in the queue.

yourself down the other bloody landing.

I can't do this on my own.

Yes, you can.

I want you to take night.

Steady breaths in between each
contraction. It will help you to feel a

calmer.

Good. Oh, thank God.

Thank God.

Who sent for an ambulance?

It wasn't necessary at all.

If you really want to be of help, you
will boil a kettle, fill some hot water

bottles, fetch clean, dry towels, a
basin, and a blanket.

Thank you, gentlemen, for your
attendance.

All is in order for the meanwhile.

All right, sister.

I want you to inch forward for me,
Hilda.

That's it.

Good girl.

A bit more.

Look on, Abby.

I've been at my anymore.

Vertex is visible, sister.

Shall I tell you something, Hilda?

You're doing splendidly.

Murphy and I aren't going to leave your
side.

Now, on this next contraction...

as you bear down.

That's wonderful.

Well done.

Well done.

Keep going.

We're on the next contraction.

I think we're going to have the bogus
head.

I can't believe it.

I can't believe it. There were days and
deliveries where I couldn't believe it

either. Birth was and will always be the
most common place of miracles, an event

at once familiar and phenomenal,
timeless and immediate, briefly making

of us all.

Over £18 for our vote.

Apart the same size as a turkey.

All the children for vaccinations over
this way, please.

And anyone who doesn't line up nicely
will be reported to Father Christmas.

Tricky. And you needn't think I don't
know where to find him.

Last year, he left his number in my
stocking.

Lynette, take the boys over for their
needles.

Don't take needles in front of them. You
know they'll kick off.

If they're frightfully brave and well
-behaved, they'll get a jelly baby

afterwards. You'd better hurry up,
otherwise all the black ones will be

Watch out!

Come on, mind your own way. I want a
star on top of this, not somebody's

book. Decent greetings to you, too.

Do I have to undress him? It's on the
nippy side in here.

Plant his napkin, if you would, Mr
Duncan.

Hand knits weigh rather heavy on the
scales.

I'll see you at tea time.

Better hurry.

Has the baby been born?

Yes, there has.

Is it thriving?

Yes. Is it?

Yes. And the mother?

Is she thriving too?

Mother and baby are both doing well.

I'm afraid you must let me pass. I'm
expecting elsewhere.

Oh, soon we'll.

Thank God, nurse.

Thank God.

Hmm.

There's a bold blue somewhere, I reckon.

Or a wire.

Go on, Sonny, go and wiggle that plug
for me.

The electric always slows down in the
cold weather.

It's what you call atmospherics.

Now, don't tickle it. Clump it once.

We'll be sat in the blooming dark at
this rate. And then how's the rangers

to find their way, eh?

Ah.

Ow!

You won't be laughing, clump, clump, so
to the tree.

How's Bethlehem going to look without a
tree and lights, eh?

I told you that.

Looking for the pamphlet on three months
of colic.

Something caught your eye?

Not really.

Are you interested in coming into
nursing?

You must be finishing school soon.

Easter. Then I thought of the filing
park down at Cousin's Wall.

My dad's a weird -ass foreman.

Gosh. Nothing like connections.

It must be rather jolly seeing doors
begin to open. Big, wide world, all of

that. I suppose.

Happy reading.

You'd have had more success pulling her
teeth out one by one.

One can't help having a sort of spasm of
hallow feeling.

I don't remember what it felt like. A
feeling as though you'd never stop

growing. Like Alice in Wonderland when
she ate the cake.

Dreading being noticed.

And fearing you aren't visible at all.

Can't bear to.

I've never seen anyone so decrepit.

I have to say, I've got a jolly robust
nose.

But a meth drinker asked me for small
change the other day. It was all I could

do to keep my brown face down.

I don't think she was a drinker.

And there was actually mildew on her
coat.

She was asking after the baby, you say?

Yes. Sounds like someone who used to see
a lot of upstepney boarders.

Used to call her Mrs Jenkins.

I don't think that was her real name.

Not quite the full picnic, if you ask
me.

But she always knew.

If a birth was taking place, who thought
Lisbon buildings would have been her

damping ground?

Do you know, I think I saw her the other
day.

I'm sorry to say it, but the poor old
thing was whittling in the gutter. Oh,

well, that's definitely her, then.

In a lot of demolition upset, anyway.

She may have moved her lodgings or lost
them.

Righty -ho.

For the next two hours, I only answer to
our Kayla.

Things you see when you haven't got a
gun.

We do not need any flag.

We're putting our semicolon to one side
this week and concentrating on our

nativity play.

Now, as you know, we're going to perform
it for our mothers and fathers on the

last Thursday before Christmas.

Everyone taking part will get their
entertainer badge, apart from Timothy

will be getting his musician badge for
playing the violin.

Now, calling all shepherds.

Jack, what about you? Aren't you
supposed to be a shepherd? Oh, what

light is this?

I've grown out, me old dressing gown.
You said we had to have dressing gowns.

Well, why doesn't Gary take your part?

He can be a shepherd, you can play
bouncer.

Can I still have a group?

Oh,

donkeys it is.

Now, the Alice band has already
perished, so I want you to treat those

they're made of porcelain.

Oh, bravo, reapportment.

Excuse my tardiness.

I've been making inquiries about a
manger.

Gosh.

Move over, Prince Rainier of Monaco.

Just raise your mother or I'll run you
up a cape.

You all right there?

Picking my brothers up.

My mum and dad don't like them running
around on the people's island.

Good for them, that's what I say.

Now, in a horseshoe, please.

OK, love!

Cubs, do your best.

The vicar's invited the mayor of Poplar
to the nativity.

I know one shouldn't speak ill of a man
of the cloth, but it was ballycally for

him to put it in a letter.

Only a bit of fun.

It was only a bit of fun.

If the mayor's intending to defend,
that's a different kettle of plate

I can't just have a few cubs in their
nightwear and tiny tears and swaddling.

Camilla, why are you getting so upset?

This is our district, Peter. All saints
in our church.

I feel proud of it. I don't want anyone
to feel as though we're somehow lacking.

Into bed now before you get pneumonia
off the line, though.

Whatever happened to new Desperandum,
eh?

You forget what you're capable of
sometimes.

I know exactly what I'm capable of.

That's the problem.

Those are lovely.

Two little diggy birds sitting on the
wall.

One named Peter, one named Paul.

Fly away, Peter.

Get away from my baby!

Do you hear me? Get away!

I'd never take him.

I'm not accusing you of taking him. I'm
accusing you of touching him.

Mrs Jones, what is happening?

It's her, the filthy old crone.

I only nipped in to pick up the orange
juice.

Mrs. Jones, that's enough.

Now go back in the clinic and ask them
to replace your juice.

Nurse Lee, would you clear up this mess?

No one can resist a baby, Mrs Jenkins.

But mothers can be fierce when they
think their child is threatened.

We're only dicky birds.

I know.

Dicky birds.

Just little ones.

It's a hard time of year to spend too
much time alone.

Can you tell me where you live?

You can send someone to look in on you
to make sure you're being properly taken

care of.

She doesn't look well.

Old age, poverty.

Chronic malnourishment and exhaustion, I
suppose.

Why doesn't she accept help?

Who knows what brutality she knew when
she was young.

Help, then, didn't mean what help means
now.

Once more onto the breach and all of
that. It's simply a matter of scaling

things up.

I just waylaid Brown Anne at the bus
stop and we're combining forces now. So

there'll be eight angels, a female Mary,
a full complement of cattle and quite a

sizable flock of sheep.

Tammy, it's the parish hall, not the
London Palladium.

Well, that sort of attitude will get us
nowhere.

I don't know, thanks.

By all means, tell me I'm a frightful
bore, but would you consider doing me a

kindness? I'd be glad to if my mum don't
mind.

It's all connected to church affairs.

The nativity play, to be precise.

We need a sort of capable senior angel
to rule the little brownies with a rod

iron. I don't know, no.

I might be needed at home.

I might let you down, and I'd hate to
let you down. I always think it best to

travel, hopefully.

I don't know. We're not at home to Miss
Pessimistic.

Now, we'll rig you out in the best crepe
paper.

Shame, I haven't got my...

tape measure in my pocket. You don't
need it. I'm a 40 -inch hip.

Oh, bravo.

Splendid.

See

you

on payday.

Yeah.

Greetings, Doctor.

I just called in to collect those
instruments.

Of course.

Nearly done.

No sign of that new autoclave.

The department said it would come this
week, but there's been no juice so far.

Are you staying for tea, Dr Tanner?

Mrs B's made an absolute pièce de
résistance of yule log.

Thanks, but I've got Timothy outside in
the car.

Oh, dear.

Housekeeper's day off.

Well, I'm sure we can pop you something
into a paper bag.

How is Timothy getting on?

It's been almost a year.

He's doing well enough.

But it'll be our first Christmas since
his mother died.

And I'm worried it might undo things.

I lost my mother when I was very young.

Children are more resilient than you
think.

He's made his opinion of my cooking
rather clear.

Fishy chips for us tonight, I reckon.

Sorry, Doctor.

There's been a message from the surgery.

Urgent home visit requested.

Lady called Mrs Jenkins.

I'm meant to be at a rehearsal now. Stay
there and don't talk to anyone.

You'll make me late.

Like you're always late.

Hello?

Hello?

Mrs Jenkins.

I'm a doctor.

Here to help.

Don't you come near me.

I want that moment. What?

It's a classic case of angina pectoris.

I've prescribed amyl nitrate for use in
the event of any new collapse.

And penicillin, because there was
evidence of urinary incontinence all

place. Mrs Jenkins might very well have
an infection, which would contribute to

her confusion.

It might be worth trying to collect a
urine sample.

That shouldn't be too challenging. Just
stick a galley pot in a convenient

gutter.

She is also hard of hearing, jumping
with fleas, and her living conditions

calamitous.

If you could speak to the social
services, I'll put on the list for daily

in the meanwhile.

Hello?

Mrs. Jenkins?

I'm Nurse Lee.

The doctor sent me to come and have a
look at you.

I don't need nobody to look at it.

Nothing to be afraid of.

We just want to see if we can make you a
bit more comfortable.

I thought you was rosy for a minute.

She's got a face like yours.

Like carnation milk when you open her
tin.

Who's rosy, Mrs Jenkins?

Is she a relation?

She's sweet.

Sweet as a little flower, she is.

The doctor wanted me to do a few routine
checks each time I visit.

We'll start by taking your pulse, and
then we'll move on to your temperature.

Don't you touch me! Please, now!

Oh. And when do you see a patient again,
nurse? Can't take a pulse.

It wasn't that I couldn't, Sister, it
was that she wouldn't let me. Oh, no, it

was because she didn't trust you. And if
you can't make your patients trust you,

you are no good as a nurse.

Now answer my question.

She's on the list for this evening's
round, Sister.

Hmm. Well, shall I tell you what else is
on this evening's round?

21 injections, 16 insulin...

four penicillin, an ear to syringe, a
cannula to drain, and three sets of

hemorrhoids to compress.

I'm sorry, sister, but the problem
was... No, no, I'll tell you what the

is. You young girls do too much book
learning. You sit for months in

filling your heads with loads of
codswallop, when simple, practical tasks

beyond... Now look what you've made me
do!

Oh!

Synthetic.

Modelling for chummy.

She ended up with more children taking
part than parts, so she decided to

personify the wise men's gifts.

And what's that supposed to be?

Myrrh. It's quite straightforward
compared to frankincense.

What's all this fuss about?

Doctor says you've got a problem with
your ticker.

But I would lay bets that it's as hale
as mine.

Hmm. Right.

Let's have a check at this pulse.

Pulse attempted.

Patient. Demonstrated.

Strong. Right.

Right.

You awkward old biddy.

See what you make of this.

And if that doesn't impress you, I can
do it again. In a different key.

Catch it, Nurse Lee. It's heading for
the door.

Cat's got it now.

It's underneath the chair.

Where 'er you be, let your wind go free.

In church and chapel, let it roll.

Good thing there's no naked flames
about.

The insulin round, and I'm under no
illusions that it will be

They'll all have been at the College
Street, every man jack of them.

If I was the Prime Minister, I would
shut that factory down.

Is that Mrs Jenkins?

Yes.

I've never heard anything like it.

I have.

We used to call it the workhouse howl.

What?

It's the sound of someone who's been at
the bottom of the heap.

I would call it a cry of protest, except
there's no fight left in it. No hope

either.

Should we go back?

Not now.

I couldn't reach her if we did.

The magical fill of a gloomy face, then.

Sister Monica Joan, why don't you rest
until it's time for Compline?

No.

I thought Bright Raymond was stored
within this room.

But it's gone.

And we do not know what forces are at
work.

Chummy takes the costumes up to her old
bedroom for safekeeping.

She doesn't want them getting in
everybody's way.

I was accused of taking macaroons to my
room by Sister Evangeline, but it was

not so.

Almonds are mercurial and likely to be
consumed into the ether.

Would you hold the glue pot for me,
Sister?

Sister Monica Joan, have you heard of
the workhouse howl?

I have heard the workhouse howl itself.

One years it left now, the infirmary was
closed, and the inmates are slowly

tatted into graves.

It speaks of an agony beyond all words.

This wasn't beyond all words.

Mrs. Jenkins was calling someone's name.

Lynette, have you seen my kitchen
scissors?

No, Mum.

I was putting the string on the
Christmas pudding and I couldn't lay

them. What are you doing with your
lights still on?

I was just thinking.

You can think just as well in the dark.

Oh, come on, you.

Another busy day tomorrow.

Church in the morning.

And you've got rings around your eyes as
black as the ace of spades.

I reckon my monthly's coming up.

No medals for that, I'm afraid.

You know where the aspirins and the you
-know -whats are.

Good night, and God bless you.

shall thou behold.

He shall give his angels charge over
thee.

Oh, no.

No, no.

Trixie?

Trixie! What's the matter?

Oh, my goodness.

Get this to Julianne.

He's breathing shallow and his pulse is
low.

It was already turning blue.

I'll fetch the blanket and the paraffin
heater.

When you've done that, call for the
police.

Lynette, time to get up.

Pillow case, candy striped, wincy
material.

You'll find the same in any one of a
hundred homes in Poplar.

We were able to snip about an inch of
the thread that was used to tie the

It looked like ordinary kitchen string,
but the cord was cut quite neatly.

Perhaps scissors or a knife?

Make sure to clean the cord properly.

Whatever implement was used, it was
unlikely to be sterile. Yes, sister.

Our order has been here for over 60
years.

You've never had a single case of
abandonment until now.

There's a paper bag here from Liston's.
That tritoneus was shut down.

Sister, why do you think somebody would
do a thing like this?

I've come to the conclusion there are
only two reasons for ever doing

One is love, and the other is fear.

It would appear that both were at work
in this case.

I've put almost the whole liet together
from the things in the charity box.

Pink booties for a boy.

There won't be any blue ones.

Wool of the proper hue can be acquired.

Wool of the proper hue can be purchased.

Nurse Lee, take two shillings out of the
petty cash and see that Mr Monica Jones

is properly equipped.

Are we going to call him then?

Don't worry, we should leave that to his
mother. She may come back, especially

if it's reported in the paper.

It is in fact customary to name an
abandoned infant after somebody closely

connected with its rescue.

We can hardly call it Cynthia.

It would be worse than pink booties.

Somebody closely connected and of the
same gender.

Nobody calls baby boys Fred anymore.

Might as well give him a flat cap and a
woodbine. There is surely only one

appellation we can choose. The child
must be baptised in honour of our

St Raymond Anartus.

That's us, Viv.

Sounds like a digestive system in full
working order.

Now then, little Raymond, let's see if
we've warmed you up.

It's not what I asked for, but it's a
start.

I can't believe the council won't
rehouse her. The building's been

Elderly single people are supposed to go
into nursing homes.

We can do better than that for Mrs
Jenkins, can't we? Don't doubt it.

I'm off to search.

I've found a bath.

What's more, it's full of coal.

Right, I'll fill them up.

Oh, come on.

Move any slower, you'll grow more.

Don't you take against my Rosie. You
come over here, dear.

I don't know who Rosie is, Mrs Jenkins,
but she isn't me.

No.

She had a little girl then.

Yours are only small.

I'm not taking them off. I told you, I'm
not. You thieving bitterns. Please, Mrs

Jenkins, we need you to take them off so
he can get you into the bath.

You can have them back afterwards.
She'll burn them. I am burning your

because they're riddled with little
visitors. We don't want them infesting a

clean new bed.

I'll never take them off.

I won't come off.

They're stuck to her skin, sister.

You'll have to try Vaseline.

You're hurting me.

No wonder you were lashing out.

You must have been in constant pain.

We'll get you into the chiropodist.

But Nurse Lee and I will give you the
once -over for today.

Not anymore.

This placenta is less than 24 hours old.

And there's a piece missing.

What does that mean?

If the mother doesn't get medical help,
she will develop a uterine infection

leading to high fever and possible
septicemia.

If untreated, it may be fatal.

I see. We need to find her.

I may not have much time.

I reckon let's squirrel.

And it's not long dead.

I'll keep it for best. No, you're to put
it on now.

We've a busy day ahead.

Dentist first, then we're going to the
doctor's.

Did you hear me, Mrs Jenkins?

I heard the word dentist.

I'll go in the spring when it's warmer.

You can eat without discomfort. Your
general health will benefit.

My purse won't benefit.

There'll be no charge, Mrs Jenkins.

You're also entitled to free glasses and
a walking stick, should either take

your fancy.

And you haven't eaten your meals on
wheels.

I was saving it for Rosie.

She'll be hungry when she can.

What's that?

It's a lamb chop.

Walk hand in hand with me.

Through all eternity, have faith,
believe

in me.

Be good now.

Give me your hand.

Love is a symphony of

perfect harmony.

When lovers such as we.

Walk hand in hand.

Be not afraid.

For I am with you all the while.

So lift your head up high.

And look toward the sky.

Walk hand in hand with me.

This is our day. destiny no greater

love could be walk hand in hand

Be not afraid, for I am with you all the

while.

So lift your head up high and look

up high.

What are you doing with my paper, madam?

Reading about this.

I might have been doing something I
didn't ought to.

Who said this is an appeal?

Quite right, too.

Whoever she was, she wants all sweeping.

Oh, I nearly forgot.

Friday night is sweetie money night.

Always has been, always will be.

Used to be a shilling, Dad. This is half
a crown.

That's because the things you do don't
go unnoticed.

You're a good girl, Lynn.

You don't have to look after me, Mrs
Jenkins.

I should be looking after you.

Besides, if I sit too close to the fire,
I'll get chillblains.

Oh, not the chillblains.

My Rosie got chillblains.

She cried.

One night, the wardress, she let her
come to me.

On account of the others being kept
awake, I wrapped her in my petticoat.

Her bones was like birds' bones.

Was Rosie your daughter, Mrs Jenkins?

All night she stayed.

Then when morning comes, she was took
back with Marvis.

There were others.

How many?

Too many.

Did they go into the workhouse with you?

Yes.

They didn't thrive.

What happened to Rosie?

After the night with the chill blades?

I never saw her again.

Never saw none of them.

Never saw them fly.

I just knew they wasn't singing anymore.

How could Mrs Jenkins not have been
told?

I believe once he walked into one of
those appalling places, you gave up

everything you were and every right you
ever had.

Even your children, especially the
children.

The kiddies were kept in separate
quarters.

Social worker's going to come for him on
Friday.

Heard Sister Julianne on the telephone.

First he'll be fostered, then adopted,
and lost to his mother forever.

Oh, don't say that.

All the facts will be filed away in some
sort of beastly cabinet.

We just have to hope that one day they
go looking for each other.

The waves.

Round here.

All Saints Parish, baptismal roll. All
Saints

Parish, deaths.

Poplar workout, 1888 to 1934.

And there it was, in neat, indifferent
copper plate.

3rd of April, 1906.

Jenkin, Marianne, widow, admitted
destitute.

And underneath, the devout roll call of
her only possessions.

Alice, George, May,

Percy, aged 5, aged 3.

Age two, age seven months, and rose.

There was a rose.

Age eight, upon admittance to the
children's ward, the cause of death was

as failure to thrive.

She was in there from 1906 to 1935, but
to work in a sewing shed.

You don't have to drive anyone to Lally.
When the workhouse closed, she was

discharged with the gift of a sewing
machine.

So that she could earn her own living.

And what do you propose to do, Nurse
Lee?

Now you have garnered these unedifying
facts.

I don't know, Sister.

Then if I may crave my sister's
indulgence for a quote from the

You have been curious in unnecessary
matters.

The past remains the past.

The present, unamended.

Sister Monica, Joan is right.

It's what happens in the here and now
that counts.

Will it matter one day where baby
Raymond was found? Blue with cold and

in a pillowcase? No, because that will
be his past. And his present will be

and filled with love.

Mrs. Jenkins' present isn't safe or
filled with love. Nurse Lee. Forgive me,

sister, but her life is completely
wretched.

She waits every day for a child.

For children that are never coming home.

Then you should turn your mind to that.

Pass me a mince pie.

Public burial ground, Poplar, 1900
-1910.

Now, I want gold, frankincense and myrrh
and the three kings to stand at the

back of the line for the parade of the
shepherds and the sheep. Come on.

Sorry.

We'll be starting that as soon as Nurse
Lee takes her gloves off.

And don't forget to line up nicely down
the central aisle. You'll be walking

past the mayor and I will not have him
knocked by any elbows.

Timothy Turner, where's your tea towel?
My dad couldn't find one.

Very well.

Now, are you ready, sheep?

Now, angel.

I don't want any angels trying to flap
their wings.

Arms outstretched, but perfectly still.

That's it.

Lynette, you're drooping a little.

Sorry. Bravo.

Leslie.

No buying, absolutely no buying until
you get to the manger and see the

King Garry Scoville.

And you're poking with that crook and
I'll demote you to a bullock.

Right.

Lynette. Lynette.

Lynette.

Can I call the doctor?

Ambulance.

Sorry.

I'm really sorry.

What for?

I haven't told no one.

Do you think you can tell me?

She wants the clip round the ear hole,
not chrysanthemums.

Mrs Duncan.

Margate.

Easter week.

Some lad she met queuing up for the
waltzes.

He was staying in the boarding house
across the way from us.

Should have kept me high on her.

I was three months gone myself, sick as
a dog most days.

You should have noticed.

I should have noticed.

I'm her mother.

If I didn't notice, there's no hope for
you. And if you didn't, there's no hope

for anyone.

Duncan.

You know I'm a church warden.

Of course.

And she's a pillar of the mother's
union.

My daughter comes from a respectable
home.

Nobody's doubting that, Mr Duncan.

But baby Raymond... Who called him
there?

We did.

It's only temporary.

Hit the body, little thing.

Quite the bruiser, in fact. When are the
adoption people coming?

Friday. Then it's not signing any papers
unless we're there.

Jane, well...

What are you bringing me to a church
for?

I'm not bringing you to a church, Mrs
Jenkins.

I'm bringing you to a churchyard.

I've no objection to a constitutional.

Mrs Jenkins, I don't know if you realise
this, but we're standing

by a public grave.

Is there many put in here?

Yes.

This is where they bury the workhouse
inmates.

I had too many.

And they're all here.

I was able to get plans of the cemetery
and the graves from the public records.

It's all written down.

Percy and May are lying next to each
other, just over there.

Alice is to the right.

I think in the summer that tree must
cast some shade there.

And George is by the cross.

Rosie.

She's right here, Mrs. Tenkey.

Almost underneath your feet.

Can you help me to nail down?

Of course.

I'd have liked her in with me.

To warm her feet.

I can see she's tucked up safe.

If Lynette finds the papers, the baby
Raymond will just be whisked away.

Camilla, it's the family's decision and
none of our business.

It's Lynette's decision.

It ought to be.

I grew up with Pa and Mater on a
separate continent.

Brothers at Winchester, which was miles
away.

But one always had an address.

We were given stamps at the beginning of
every term.

But poor little Raymond won't even have
that.

You've got your awning look about you
now.

You sure you can't come home?

Peter, I'm on call.

I'll be quite all right once I've had my
Horlicks.

Besides, I'd rather enjoy the odd night
in my old quarters.

Young Raymond's rooming in with Cynthia,
and I'll have an entire crepe paper

menagerie to keep me company.

And I shan't have any problem counting
sheep.

Is someone trying to keep you out?

Possibly. I've been locked in.

Oh, my giddy aunt.

No. The pint must have been.

The coffee tubes, everything utterly
ruined.

It wouldn't happen in Ballybethlehem.

Morning.

I could die the same.

The social worker's waiting with Sister
Juliet in the dining room, so you won't

be disturbed.

He isn't sleeping.

and pick them up, Lynette.

I'm scared to.

Why?

Because they'll make me poop down again
and I've done that once.

This is cruel.

She's not old enough to be a mother.

She's not mature enough to be a mother.

There's a blind in the face of
everything God ever wrote.

Making milk come out of me.

I have no quarrel with our Lord in the
general way, Mrs Duncan.

But I think you'll find Mother Nature
wrote these rules.

Pick him up.

Come on, Ivy.

You're a mother too.

It's a bit late for that now.

She ain't saying it to us, love.

She's saying it to him.

Like all the things in life that are
truly meaningful, Christmas is never

perfection.

In Bethlehem 2 ,000 years ago,
accommodation was makeshift. The wise

followed somewhat confused directions,
and the shepherds gave the nearest gifts

that came to hand.

That year in Poplar, things were
similarly compromised.

But hope prevailed, and help came from
unexpected sources.

Just the person we wanted to see.

Reinforcement. How perfectly withered.

Baby Raymond was not lost, nor was his
mother.

Their family made the best of it and
gave their thanks in kind.

All right.

There you go.

All right, fella.

Hello,

dear.

The stars are brightly shining.

It is the night of the dear Savior's

birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error

pining. Till He appeared and the

soul...

Many years ago in a town named Nazareth
there lived a beautiful young lady

called Mary.

God has chosen you to be a mother of a
very special child.

You will have a baby and his name will
be Jesus.

How can that be?

It is a miracle from the Holy Spirit,
and the child will be a son of God.

It was a Christmas as unique as any
other, for every year the mystery

itself anew.

In later life, I came to see that faith,
like hope, is a rope and anchor in a

shifting world.

Faith cannot be questioned, only lived.

And if I could not grasp it then,

I felt its heartbeat, which was love.