Portobello sweet shop owner Thomas Hamilton understood the magic of his array of treats – Susan Dalgety

When I lived in Portobello, my eldest grandson was always keen to visit. Not for the beach, but so we could pop into his favourite shop, Hamilton’s sweet-shop.

Thomas Hamilton, who ran the shop for 37 years until it closed in 2014, died recently and I was not surprised by the warm tributes he received. Hamilton’s was a treasure trove for children (and adults) with a sweet tooth. Its shelves glowed with glass jars full of vintage delights like Kola Kubes and strawberry bon-bons. And an always-cheerful Mr Hamilton stood behind a counter laden with every variety of chocolate bar imaginable.

The only thing I disliked about his shop was that I knew that when seven-year-old Kyle and I entered, him clutching a pound coin, we would be there for at least 20 minutes while Kyle agonised over which sugary treat to buy. We would step aside for the stream of more decisive customers that entered the shop while Kyle decided between a bag of soor plooms or a big bar of Dairy Milk, but Mr Hamilton never hurried little boys who couldn’t make up their mind. He understood the magic of his shop.

Hamilton’s also brought back happy memories of my own childhood sweet shop, Miss Hannah’s. It was in the front room of a centuries-old house on the street across the road from my grandmother’s cottage, and every Saturday my siblings and I would hurry there to spend our sixpence pocket money. Like Hamilton’s, Miss Hannah’s shop boasted an array of jars laden with teeth-rotting boiled sugar, and she was just as patient with her tiny customers, overwhelmed by the choice.

Tributes have been paid to sweet shop owner Thomas Hamilton, who died recently

I know that we Scots eat far too many sweets. Research shows that more than a third of us eat confectionery at least once a day (guilty), and two-thirds of us are overweight (guilty again), but shops like Hamilton’s are part of our shared history.

Today, I buy treats for my grandchildren from my local discount supermarket. They’re kept in a safe hiding place, to be handed out sparingly. It may be healthier than a trip to a sweetie shop, but with none of the magic. Thank you, Mr Hamilton for the sweet memories.