Migrant children like myself soon integrated with other children at school. Teachers were inspirational in music and art as well as basics and even arranged a visit to the seaside.
At dinnertime, we raced from school to the dinner-centre a mile away, anxious to be first in the queue and devour three or four dinners, food being scarce at home.
With no cars, TV or children’s radio, children took strolls to distant parks and bus rides to see the Christmas lights to sing carols under the Christmas tree in Trafalgar Square.
We were always busy. I can’t say we were unhappy.
