In the spirit of childhood

Martin Huleatt’s life and work at Community Playthings left an enduring mark on early childhood education. Known for his warmth, humour, and unwavering respect for children’s voices, he was a much-loved presence in schools and nurseries across the UK during the 2010s. Many of us met Martin in busy training rooms, between block towers and sand-and-water trays, or observed him crouching to a child’s eye level as he scanned a nursery or classroom in its planning stages.

Martin died on 31 August, 2025, after living with cancer for several years; however, he never stopped listening, laughing, or making room for wonder. Alongside his wife, Helen – who carries forward their shared legacy as grandmother to thirteen grandchildren – Martin helped shape environments that honoured children as seriously as he did. What he valued still resonates with us at Community Playthings today.

Learning begins with listening

For Martin, time with a child was always a privilege. He saw each one as a unique thought of God, worthy of being heard and honoured. He believed that if we pause to observe and listen, children will show us what they need. Martin was truly happy when he saw children and educators thinking together.

When Martin and Helen left an early prototype of the Dream Coracle at Kate Greenaway Nursery School for one day, staff were concerned that a day would not be long enough for the babies to adapt. Yet, within hours, a child had climbed in, curled up, and fallen asleep. “He knew exactly what it was for,” Martin recalled. It was a reminder that when we trust children, they show us their readiness to take on a new challenge.

Making room for educators

Just as Martin trusted children to show us what they need, he also listened to educators and practitioners, helping teams create spaces that reflect their own inspirations. After Bertram Nursery Group won a Community Playthings Nursery Gym at an awards ceremony, Martin ensured it wasn’t simply dropped off by a lorry. Instead, he arranged return tickets from Edinburgh so educators Julie and Jodi could help assemble it in the way they wanted. After a tour of the workshop and a crash course in handling pneumatic screwdrivers, they worked alongside a craftsman to construct it themselves. Martin knew that, after the finished gym was set up in Scotland, “those children will always remember their manager helped make it for them.”

More story, less script

“When staff invest in an area they are personally inspired about, children's learning moves to new levels. It’s beautiful to see how children thrive when staff take a thoughtful view of their space,” Martin said. “We visited a nursery school in Wales that emphasised role play, because the head teacher noticed that the children loved playing ‘family’. As staff redesigned the nursery and reception rooms to more fully support role play, the children became deeply involved, and communication exploded.” Martin appreciated such flexibility, and this was the kind of outcome he championed in his trainings. He aimed for more depth, less clutter; more story, less script. He understood that where meaningful play flourishes, imagination, creativity, and learning multiply.

Whether whispering to the finger-puppet mouse that he took from his pocket, sparking giggles, or weaving stories that sent whole groups of children trotting from tree to tree in the back garden, Martin had a gift for drawing children into worlds of wonder. Even in his last months, he found small ways to make space for joy – like fitting a horn to his mobility scooter so that when he rode past a child, he could stop and let the child press the hooter. Every playful moment, no matter how small, was an opportunity for laughter and connection.

The spirit of childhood

Martin revered what he called the spirit of childhood, that sense of wonder, trust, and joy captured by Wordsworth’s line: “heaven lies about us in our infancy.” He believed children’s strength lay in their ability to trust – an innocence that dismisses fear – and in their natural joy in life. In his final years, Martin carried a measure of that spirit himself, offering quiet strength to those around him. As he told Helen some weeks before he died, “Heaven is a place of children.”

Carrying forward Martin’s legacy means listening to children, encouraging the inspirations of our teams, and making space for real stories. When we do, we keep alive the curiosity, care, and magic he appreciated wherever he went. The spirit of childhood endures wherever joy and imagination are welcomed – and for Martin, that was the work that mattered.