I didn’t know her well, but Betty Williams was a person to
Cherish.

Fluent in five languages and a talented poet, Betty had been widowed for some time when she came up with an idea for other people who, similarly, found themselves alone over the festive period.

She spoke to the manager of a local pub and invited people she didn’t know, who would be facing their Christmas lunch with just the telly for company, to spend an afternoon with her.

She paid for the lot, and no-one felt quite so forgotten. And it became a tradition. Even since we lost Betty, they still have a Christmas lunch all together at the pub, paid for through donations through the year, and they raise a glass to her memory, because now they have each other.