Friday 16 July 2010

Wednesdays @ Sally's

About five years ago, I regularly welcomed a group of giggly, noisy, hormonal girls into my house most Wednesday nights. They'd arrive like a whirlwind, all talking at once, laughing far too loudly, shouting to be heard over each other, miraculously being able to talk and listen to each other similtaneously. I'd watch them as they removed their shoes, by flicking them off with their toes, piling their coats up on the banister at the bottom of the stairs, and unwrapping themselves of reams and reams of woolly scarves (one would always be left behind.)

I'd take drinks orders - tea, "fat" Coke, water - and let them pour into the living room, where they'd usually devour a few cakes or biscuits. From the kitchen, I could hear coos and "ahhhs" as they welcomed each other with big hugs, and high-pitched squeals as they exchanged stories about their days at school.

Once drinks were made, I'd return to join them in the living room, where I'd attempt (usually unsuccessfully) to calm and quiet the rabble that was "my youth girlies".

We'd started meeting together after the girls asked if I could help them to spend more time together, and with God. At the time, I had two kids, a gracious, releasing husband (who remains gracious and releasing!!) and a cosy house, so it was easy to make it a regular night, at our home. And so, Wednesdays Nights were born.

Usually, I'd prepare either a Bible study, or a question, or theme to discuss. The girls would then talk...and talk some more. Sometimes they laughed, sometimes they cried. They seemed to grow closer and I started to get to know them more.

Ellie, Grace, Emily, Angharad, Laura, Emma and Phily. Lovely girls, all so different. Ellie - just like me, The Drama Queen - full of ideas, full of passion. Grace - The Natural Carer, she'll always look after others first. Emily - The Strong, clever, funny, always does well, with whatever she puts her hand to. Angharad - The Giggler, known as Annie, smiley, cute, everyone's friend. Laura - The Grown Up, hugely mature and endlessly loving. Emma - The Artist, observant, reserved, deeply emotional. Phily - The Baby of the Group - amazingly prophetic, full of potential.

I fell deeply in love with these girls. They had hoodies printed. "God's Girls" on the front, their names on the back, clearly communicating to the world that they belonged to each other, and to God. When I discovered that I was expecting Seth, my youngest child, I told the girls. They seemed very excited. Our Wednesday nights stopped, as my pregnancy progressed. With various illnesses and complications, it became to difficult to continue. But, when Seth was born, the girls held him, and fussed over my other two children. I remember laughing when Annie held Seth. He had been born 6 weeks early and was consequently very small. Annie was also rather tiny, and so they seemed, somehow, to fit!!

When we decided to follow a pull to a new church congregation, my biggest sadness was saying goodbye to this group of lovely girls. I knew that I'd miss out on their maturing and that I'd not be a part of their journeys through school and on to uni. I felt really sad, but I knew they'd not be far and that I'd see them again. I knew that they each had fantastic parents, and that their walks with God were not at all reliant upon my being around.

A while ago, at a party at my parents' house, I chatted to a few of the girls. It was so wonderful to see them and to enjoy their company again. They were just as full of beans as they'd been a few years before.

Two days ago, Annie suddenly died in a terrible car accident. It seems dream-like writing those words. No words seem to qualify in describing her. The Annie I knew, was just really easy to be around. She smiled, giggled, served, helped and loved. She was unusually close to her mum, Anne. She was a delight to know. Annie was incredbily pretty, but clearly had no idea. She seemed to be without ego. I really liked Annie. Everyone did. She was full of beans - such a cheeky monkey.

I hadn't seen Annie for a few weeks, the last time being, as I sat in the crowd of young people at LIFE, the weekly youth event at Kerith Community Church. Annie was lugging various props, and bits of furniture, on and off the stage. She did it quietly, exchanging cheeky smiles with her friends who were speaking to the gathered guests.

We didn't chat, but the next day she sent me a Facebook message - "I didn't get to talk to you last night. Meet for coffee soon?" We didn't have coffee. I haven't properly seen her for ages, but I miss her. I desperately miss her, and I seem to be crying an awful lot. I have cried on the playground, and cried with one of Annie's best friends. I've cried as I've read comments left for her on Facebook and I've cried in the car. I am so very sad. Mainly, I am sad for her family, Anne, Bill, Jonathan and Nick. I am praying for them, asking God to somehow (as only He can) give them all that they need to continue and thrive.

But also, as I remember those noisy Wednesday nights, I am so glad to have shared in the lives of those beautiful, precious girls. I am so glad that for a short time, they let me into their world, their funny, noisy, full-of-beans, crazy world. I still love them all so very much, Annie included, and that will never change. My prayer for all of these girls, is that they will return to a life of laughter, sharing funny stories of their days, and "Fat" Coke. It will never, ever be the same without Annie, but it will be richer for her having been there in the first place.

Sunday 4 July 2010

Oh to be in England!

I love the Summer. I truly thrive in warm sunshine and a gentle breeze. I love hanging my washing out on the line, knowing that it will dry quickly, smelling clean and cosy. I have been abroad during the Summer, but I can honestly say that I prefer an English Summer to the others that I have experienced.


This Summer, it has been exciting in England. With the World Cup looming, flags were hung outside people's windows and on their cars. Wimbledon brought on Murray Madness, as it did, Hopeful Henman Histrionics a few years ago. I've listened to a few radio discussions about national pride and the displaying of our national flag. I've heard people's disapproving comments, claiming flag owners and displayers are "chavy" or racist. I remember walking past various pubs during the 1998 World Cup, when I was at university, hearing chants of "En-ger-land!" and thinking how rowdy and "yobbish" it all was. What a snob I was!!

I am a massive fan of the TV adaptation of "The Darling Buds of May". I love hearing Pop Larkin, played by David Jason, as he explains the wonders of The Garden of England (Kent) to his new friend, Mr Charlton. "Can you imagine, Charlie my old man, a life without strawberries? No cream teas, no strawberries and cream? What about the plums, apples and cherries? No crumble? No lovely pies?" Summer in England wouldn't be the same without these things. In fact, England itself would not be the same.


After a few weeks of real Summer, I have noticed more and more of the things I love about England...
I love carnivals and village fairs.
I love cider, and apple pie with custard.
I love country gardens, and a jug of Pimms.
I love fish 'n' chips and the English seaside.
I love chickens and ducks in pretty country gardens, and picnics in the woods.
I love tombolas and maypole dancing.
I actually really love Morris dancers and thatched cottages.
I love old castles and Royal events. I love red London buses, and black London cabs.
I love the Queen's honours list and old, English showbiz stars.
I love Shakespeare and Chaucer.
I love beautifully-fragranced rose bushes and mighty oak trees.
I love the history and myth of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.
I love foxes and badgers, blue tits and pigeons.
I love homemade jam and round ladies with rosey cheeks.
I love the sunshine, the snow, the rain and the wind.
I love the range of amazing accents of England and the different cultures I see every day.
I love the voice of Dame Vera Lynn, telling us we'll meet again, and the amazing photos of rationed street parties after World War Two.
There is so much more that I love about England. For all our complaints. For all of our English reserve, I love this country. I am a proud English girl and I love to explore our traditions and history and share them with other nations. I hope that we will soon develop a pride in our Englishness. A pride that causes us to include others in our celebration of all that it means to be English - victory, resourcefulness, community.
But in the meantime, I'll just hope, dream...and enjoy the gentle breeze and warm sunshine, as it drys my washing.