'He's a tom... there's no getting around it'. Photo: Patrick McConahay / flickr CC.
Eye - 10 April 2015
From Friends and felines to soothing snoozing
Friends and felines
Rosalind Kaye, of Colchester Meeting, came across Quakers in an unexpected place whilst perusing the recently reissued book The Fur Person by May Sarton.
Written from a feline point of view, the ‘Fur Person’ of the title is confused about why the humans in his life keep breaking up his fights with other cats using pails of water…
‘“He’s a tom,” Gentle Voice would say, as if this were not the best thing in the world to be. “There’s no getting around it.” After all, she had named him Tom Jones herself, so whatever was she talking about? Why hadn’t she named him Sam Jones, or Timothy Jones if that was the way she felt about it? Were they contemplating giving him a new name?
‘It never occurred to the Fur Person that what they were contemplating was to change his personality, not his name, to change him, in fact, into a believer in nonviolence, a Quaker cat for whom the glories of doing battle and tearing out the fur of enemies would become anathema. This was the meaning of the word “altered” which, with the word “hospital”, haunted their conversation. And Tom Jones knew these must be dangerous words because they always looked at him so commiseratingly when they used them, and gave him extra pieces of roast beef, as if they had told him a lie and were feeling rather guilty about it.’
Appealing rhymes
Ruth Whitehouse wrote to Eye in praise of a local Friend’s creative concoctions. She explains: ‘On the first Sunday every month Northampton Local Meeting [LM] has an appeal for its own funds. When it is the turn of attender Ann Sharman to do this she usually writes a verse…’
‘LM appeal I hear you squeal
My goodness what a bore
It’s tea and coffee, biscuits – we’ve
Heard it all before
‘But though it may be irksome
Just hark to what I say
Fresh painting, chairs and tables
They all have come our way
‘And here’s to all our workers
Who organise it all
Give cheerfully you shirkers
This is a clarion call.’
***
‘Oh how we love our Meeting house
It fills us with good cheer
A garden – calm and beautiful
And memories so dear
‘The building plain and elegant
So bright and clean within
A kitchen full of goodies
We relish tucking in
‘BUT… now it’s down to money
To keep it all so fine
No dust or rust or mildew
We want it all to shine
‘So a tenner or a fiver
A note of any kind
Dig deep into your pockets
Or a cheque we wouldn’t mind.’
Quietly blessed
Friends were Sighted in a reflection on Lent recently.
The snippet was spotted by Jenny and Laurie Andrews, from Essex, in the Church Times.
Ronald Blythe, in his ‘Word from Wormingford’ column (20 March), wrote: ‘Lent is a kind of fertilisation of the spirit. It is a time when we have to find a space to let it grow. Its desert must bloom. I find that simplicity, not self-denial, is the better aid for this. It is what the Quakers tell us. I have just given a talk at their Meeting house in Sudbury, Suffolk, my home town, and felt quietly blessed all the time.’
Soothing snoozing?
Leslie Fuhrmann, of Worthing Meeting, observes that: ‘In my experience, up to ten per cent of those present in our Sunday Meetings appear to have nodded off for a while. My own record for waking at a Friends Meeting is three times in one hour! However, it was remarkable recently to hear one worshipper minister quietly without awaking. At 11.30am on a different occasion, when the Friend deputed to end the Meeting was gently snoozing, we were rescued by another elder…’
