Eye - 03 March 2017
From appreciating life to minute particulars
Appreciating life
A visit to a friend prompted Brenda Claxton, of Bath Meeting, and her husband Ted to take to heart an uplifting suggestion.
Brenda shared with Eye that: ‘Each evening before bed we sit and describe three things that have uplifted us during the day.
‘They turn out to be simple things like: seeing the birds feeding on the nuts outside the kitchen window, the sparrows squabbling; walking our large black dog Marcus on the cold frosty ground, watching as he chased around full of energy and enthusiasm; or the glorious sunsets we have had recently, mesmerized as the huge red sun slowly sank below the horizon and then the sky filled with irrigated cloud formations, reflecting the light of the descending sun.
‘Also practical things like the delicious mushroom soup I made for lunch and sitting beside the fire watching the flames. I often think when I cook and make bread, combining a variety of disparate ingredients to produce something completely different, I am partaking in a miracle. Last evening Ted was completely stuck, and then he remembered eating the black grapes, and I can still myself taste them in my mouth, even though it was not my suggestion.
‘I believe thinking and sharing the uplifting things that have happened in the day is a form of prayer, of thanksgiving, gratitude. It seems to change the quality of my sleep and dreams and, hopefully, will slowly change our appreciation of life for the better.’
Minute particulars
Ernest Hall, of Clacton-on-Sea Meeting, has written movingly of his experiences as a prisoner of war in the second world war in the Friend.
Many years ago an article, in which he wrote of the eighteen months he spent in the small town of Zittau in Germany, resulted in a remarkable journey.
The family of Jasper Kay, a Quaker near Cambridge, had originated in Zittau and he was corresponding with Ingrid Zeibig, who had spent her early years in the town. Ingrid translated the article into German for members of her family.
‘I had hoped that the family would find the article interesting. I hadn’t expected Ingrid’s mother (Frau Ingrid Kulke) and her brother Andreas to cycle round Zittau taking photos for me of buildings and other places that I might find of interest.
‘Nor had I expected Ingrid Zeibig to become my correspondent too. We have now been emailing each other for some fifteen years!’
During this correspondence Ernest recalled an unusual job he did in February 1945: ‘I had helped load some very heavy cases from Zittau town museum onto a lorry and had then gone with the lorry to a ruined monastery near the summit of Mount Oybin, a spectacular mountain a few miles from the town. There we had unloaded the cases into the crypt of the monastery… The thunder of artillery fire from the eastern front was getting louder every day and we had little doubt that world war two was nearing its end.
‘To me it had been “just another job” but Ingrid immediately thought that one of those cases must have contained the Zittau “Great Lenten Veil”.’
Lenten veils were used in Medieval times to screen church congregations from the choir and sanctuary during the season of Lent. Zittau’s 500-year-old Lenten Veil is unique in Germany as it features ninety pictures of Biblical events – forty-five from the Old Testament and forty-five from the New. How it came to be on the slopes of Mount Oybin had been shrouded in mystery until Ernest’s insights.
His actions have also inspired others to reach out, though in unexpected ways: ‘Jo, my only granddaughter, is a clinical psychologist (PhD) employed by the NHS in Yorkshire. She is certainly not thoughtlessly impetuous. I was surprised, therefore, when I learned that she had written to Angela Merkel, Germany’s chancellor, telling her about the efforts that her granddad was making in the cause of Anglo-German friendship. It’s true that in recent months I have felt that I was pursuing William Blake’s advice about “doing good in minute particulars” by making friends with folk in Zittau…
‘Did Angela Merkel appreciate Jo’s letter? The framed signed photograph that smiles at me from the wall of the spare bedroom I call my office suggests that she did – though it must be said that on that photograph she looks a good deal less careworn than on some of her recent television appearances.’
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