Insights from walking around England and Wales: #20 Relationships matter more than gifts

A child’s note on a fridge door reminded me how people matter more than stuff.

I was alone in the kitchen of the humble, chilly house of my Airbnb host, in early January 2019, in the northwest Welsh town of Bangor. Earlier that afternoon I had exchanged texts with my host, ‘Debbie’.

Hi, Laurence here, I’m your Airbnb guest for the next two days. OK if I arrive about 6?

Hi, yes that’s fine. Sorry, the room’s a bit messy, haven’t had a chance to tidy up the children’s toys. Debbie

No problem, all I need is a hot cup of tea and WiFi.

When I arrived, there was a note from Debbie telling me to make myself tea, and she would be back soon. I climbed the stairs to my room, and a wave of guilt washed over me. There were books and teddies scattered on the floor. It was evident that Debbie had just moved her children out of that bedroom for me. She had done all this for just ￡40 from Airbnb for my two-night stay.

?As I looked around, Debbie and her three children piled in through the front door, a mix of harried worry and frazzled excitement. Under their mother’s careful eye, each of the children politely introduced themselves to me, giving their name and age: a boy of five and two girls aged seven and ten. The little boy asked me why I was wearing shorts. And the ten-year-old enquired how I could walk for a year without doing my job. Or was walking my job? Good manners filled the chilly air.

My guilt worsened as I heard the little boy ask his older sister in the upstairs bedroom:

“Why are we going to Mrs. Thompson’s house? Her house smells. Is it because of that man? Why is he wearing shorts?”

Big sister shushed him and told him that it would be an adventure. Small brother made unconvinced noises.

Debbie and I chatted in the kitchen. She said that her husband had left a few months earlier, and she was sorting things out and could I forgive her for the house not being tidy. I assured her that tidiness was no issue and that hot tea covered my needs. I asked what time the heating came on in the house. Debbie looked startled and said that the thermostat was in the corner, but she liked fresh air circulating. And then, guiltily again, I realized that there was probably no money to pay the bill. Then they were gone, whirling dervishes of children and a mother under strain.

I dispensed with the shorts and, fortified with an extra pullover and a second pair of socks, I ventured back into the kitchen for tea. I looked in the fridge for milk. It contained just half a bottle of milk, some butter and a few vegetables. As I closed the door, I saw the children’s Christmas wish lists. The two younger children had asked Santa for games and clothes. The other, clearly written by the oldest girl, had just one item.

It comprised four simple words: ‘Mum to be happy’.

That was the child’s request for Christmas. I teared up. At the age of ten, she realized that what really mattered to their family was her mother’s happiness. Then they would all be fine.

I never saw Debbie or her well-mannered children again – they extended their stay with friends for a second night. I did the washing up and headed out, leaving her some flowers, wondering whether her elder daughter’s wish had been met. The honesty and innocence of her simple request stuck in my mind for the rest of the year, reminding me that relationships matter more than worldly goods.

A longer version of this post can be found here .

In 2018-19 I walked 4,300 miles around the coast of England and Wales to raise awareness that cervical cancer can be eliminated in a generation. I share insights every week. My book From Grief to Love tells the stories of the inspiring people I met that year.