Despatches from a mother who started late (and is running to catch up)

Ring and a prayer

Just before the sky darkened this afternoon, I made it out of the house for the first time in three days. I almost skipped along the street, it was such a relief to be somewhere, anywhere that wasn't my bedroom and did not contain damp laundry, memories of round-the-clock nausea, or a re-purposed waste bin. A trip to an out-of-town shopping centre on Christmas Eve might even have lifted my spirits, I was at such a low ebb.

Once I tottered outside, I felt bereft without my sick bin, like when you learn to swim and let go of the edge for the first time. But the most simple experiences assumed proportions of wonder - nodding and smiling to our neighbour - who looks like Cap'n Birdseye and stands outside his tenement in all weathers smoking and grinning through his white beard - was my most exciting, no, let me be more accurate, my only social encounter in days. (I assume he smokes outside because Mrs Birdseye refuses to tolerate it inside, but it might be a throw-back to his nautical days pacing up and down the main deck)

As we passed our local church, Va-vay noticed a sign advertising a children's service. It turned out to be starting in two minutes' time. We dithered in front of the church, not knowing whether to go in, unsure Beanie was old enough, until a man came out to welcome us.  After that, there was no turning back.

For what was one of her first church services, Beanie (twenty one months) behaved impeccably, and sat quietly most of the time on her father's knee playing with his mobile phone. She listened without a sound while the vicar talked us through the arrival in Bethlehem of Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and wise men. All was well until we got to the part where the vicar announced he would lead us in prayer:

"And now we are going to talk to God," he explained to the assembled tots and us parents.

At the call to prayer, Beanie pressed a button on the mobile, held it to her ear, assumed an expression of concentration, and piped up: "Hello?"

Who says the spirit of Christmas is dead.

Posted 24 December 2007 00:02

Kit Out and about Paradoxes

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