We prayed from the safe, secure comfort of our little world where nothing bad was possible My parents have been much on my mind this week. It’s not unusual, at this time of the year, close to Christmas and even closer to my birthday, for me to sink into a nostalgic reverie. The wistfulness extends – well it has this year – to sadness and a sense of longing for simpler times… happier times: of the unwavering, unconditional love of my mum and dad, a devotion given so completely that there was no doubt of it, a devotion that made me feel gathered in and safe and protected.I had a happy, carefree childhood, gilded I’m sure by the many intervening years and the heightened memory that shines rosy light on the distant past.Happier times of fresh faced, shiny youth and the hope and optimism that goes with youthful idealism. Times of great expectation, and devil may care spirit in which recklessness overpowered reserve and caution.Things were simpler then; everything seemed to have a place o...
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