Issue 10 Autumn 2002

NAVIGATION Return to Connect Frontpage Return to homepage

MAIN ARTICLES Unrest at the parish hall What's your favourite hymn?

OTHER CONTENTS Christmas is coming... Driven by prayer The bluebells

The bluebells

An old lady of my acquaintance, who lives in a small flat, rang me.
'Hello, this is N…do you think you could take me out into the country?
'I sometimes get depressed, sitting in my sitting room, staring at concrete through the window. All the ladies here tell me there is a little lane, which takes you to a car park in the woods close to a glorious sea of bluebells. I would like to see them. At 92, I might not live through another spring. Are you free this afternoon?'
'Well …they forecast rain…we'll talk about it when I see you.'
'Ah! We don't want to go in the rain, do we? I shouldn't have troubled you. Sorry.' She sounded disappointed.
I put the phone down. We had been through a hectic week and it was a struggle to get everything done. Yet I felt troubled. The sun was shining. Another day would not do. Jesus said: 'Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as one of these.'
That same afternoon, we took her to see the bluebells.
George Dodd