I AWOKE thinking perhaps I have gotten to that age when I wear purple or I have suddenly 'seen the light' – no, actually the wind was howling and the usual sound of people off to work resumed in the road.

Evesham or the Sham never makes a false show or pretends – it is what it is, a struggling town, poor man's Stratford (or so I have heard it referred to), making the best of a skint council, no foreseeable possibility to develop rundown buildings and unkempt land.

The bins overflow with rubbish consciously discarded and the morning after the night before, empty plastic food containers and cans lie in the street (why doesn't anyone eat the coleslaw?).

Oh, and the bridge closure did blow my brains, but I am going to stop moaning and remove it from my vocabulary.

As a Birmingham girl, I came to live in Evesham – yes, I saw what it wasn't, but Iiked what it was. The schools, river, park, diversity, opportunity – it felt good.

It still is, and can be even better.

We all owe it to our children and our ageing population to see them for what they are – to care, support, enable and inspire.

Life sometimes isn't easy but it doesn't take much to smile, say hello, help the elderly get something down from the top shelf in the supermarket or put their bin out, be prepared to learn about our different neighbours and their cultures and generally care.

Jennifer Russell

Evesham