‘She understood the gesture and knew what was being asked of her’ Photo: courtesy of Alyssa Stone
Sign of the spirit: David Abbott has a fictional but informative account
‘Grace looked directly at Marion.’
It was the first in-person Meeting since everything. Given that the average age of the attendees was over seventy-five, there had been understandable concerns.
On Zoom, Grace, a longtime member, had enjoyed seeing people’s front rooms each Sunday morning. The house she shared with husband Alan had remained unchanged for the forty-five years of their marriage. Alan didn’t care for change. Grace noticed that in the hour of contemplative silence, everybody closed their eyes apart from Marion. Later, she wrote this down in the small notebook of thoughts that she kept sellotaped under the breadbin.
In the in-person Meeting, fifteen or so souls sat in a circle. On the table sat a small bunch of fuchsia from Jemitra’s garden. At ten-thirty, the air fell silent. Postures were adjusted. Eyes lowered or closed. Friends sat and began to tune into the spirit and the light.
One ministry came twenty minutes into the hour. Jerimiah, ruminating on climate justice. Eloquent and brief. A man nearing the end of life as fierce as ever about the future of those hoping to inherit the earth.
Grace stood next just before eleven o’clock. She had never offered ministry in Meeting before, so there was a general sense of anticipation. Alan, next to her, eyes closed and dozing. Grace looked directly at Marion who had, as ever, kept her gaze upon the flowers on the table.
‘Our book of Quaker faith advises us that loving care binds us together and that the act of giving and receiving love nourishes us. We’re reminded that it’s a mistake to assume that those with outwardly happy lives don’t need help. Everyone has needs.’ As she spoke, Grace held her hand up to her chest, palm facing outwards, her thumb tucked inwards and her fingers closing over the top. A year earlier, Grace had seen a poster in her GP practice which showed ways in which those experiencing domestic abuse could signal for help. She had memorised it. Grace looked very directly at Marion throughout before sitting back down.
Marion’s heart leapt. Quite by coincidence, as a safeguarding lead at school, she understood the gesture and knew what was being asked of her. She looked at Grace and nodded.
At half past eleven the Meeting closed with the shaking of hands. Everyone agreed that it had been a lively act of worship. As teas and coffees were being served, Alan headed to the gents.
‘Fetch your coat, Grace,’ said Marion.
In the car Grace wept. Marion touched her arm, ‘We’ll drive to my sister’s house. He won’t know. Her garden has the prettiest view. You can see where the river meets the sea in the sweep of the estuary.’
Comments
There is much to think about and appreciate here. I like it very much. I do think keeping eyes open during MfW (at least part of the time) makes a lot of sense in terms of feeling part of a group and feeling a sense of love and solidarity with those friends all around you. And in a big meeting like mine, the delight of seeing completely new faces.
By ljkerrsheff@gmail.com on 9th March 2023 - 11:07
Lovely story, thank you! Important to know abuse can be part of many people’s lives and keeping silent about it seems to be intrinsic to the process…
By janekingvoice on 9th March 2023 - 16:35
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