Tuesday 9th September 2014
|St Cuthbert's Elsdon|
where there was a farcical moment in the PCC meeting as it was agreed that we needed to move the lawnmower from its current storage position in order to allow room to get to the switch to turn on the organ. "The mower really ought to go in the shed." "Yes, you're right, but..." There was a chorus of "The shed needs a floor"
I had not long come from a hospital visit in my capacity as Rural Dean filling in for a parish priest going into retirement. I made a phone call to ask if they had Tommy Nixon in hospital and was told he was on Ward 4. There I was directed to an elderly man wearing an oxygen mask who had two visitors sitting by his bed.
I felt rather awkward as I didn't recognise him or them, but they looked pleased so I plunged on assuming that he was Tommy. "Bill" said his family. "Bill Nixon." "Ah...but you're from Wark, aren't you." "No, from Hexham" .......and the patient removed his mask to say "Thank you for coming, Father". It doesn't matter to me if someone calls me "Father"; at least it shows a familiarity with the clergy. So I simply asked how he was getting on and was glad to hear that he was improving. I said a prayer and gave him a blessing and commented "Now I'd better go and find Tommy Nixon", to which he responded "Thank you, Father. Good bye, Father."
[P.S. In case you've strayed onto this blog page, I should say that I'm a woman and was wearing a skirt.]