Sixty the New Forty?

I have come to realise that one of the effects of belonging to a young and lively church is that I have a number of friends who are young mums.  Some I just say 'hello' to, some I'm comfortable to sit and chat with, and there are others whose company I enjoy through the medium of music, as I occasionally join one of the groups to lead the singing at services.

The knock-on effect of being with these people is that it keeps me young. There's more than a grain of truth in the cheeky quote, 'a man is as young as the woman he feels!'  As I said to one of these friends recently, 'I feel as if I'm forty'.

Today has seen a busy day at the church; it was our annual Fun Day, when a variety of activities are staged in church and hall, and outside as well, including a climbing wall, bouncy castle, and a scalextric track, all completely free of charge, as a gesture of welcome to our local community. Many of these are particularly of interest to the children, of course, like the various craft tables, cake decoration, face-painting, and a sandpit, but there was a constant supply of tea, coffee and cakes as well as a barbeque and lots of seating inside and out.

In the past, my response to this event has been to turn up after it's got going, take a quick look around, decide it's not my scene and depart after a token coffee and bun.  Earlier this year, however, I ticked a box to indicate interest in the 'events team'.  I had forgotten all about this until I received an e-mail from one of those 'young mums' mentioned above, asking if I would help setting up tables for a series of corporate meals during Lent, the solemn season leading up to Easter.  Through this, I began new friendships and expanded existing ones.

As a result, when the call went out for help with the Fun Day, I was quite willing to offer my time, though saying from the start that many of the activities were well outside any skills I might possess.  Apart from shifting chairs and setting up tables, the organiser designated me as a sort of general assistant, to be on hand for 'odd jobs'.  I was content with this assignment for (as with my recently-concluded career as a courier) its 'unexpected' element.  It included being asked to collect the gas for the balloons, and despatched at short notice to obtain further supplies of sand ... thankful that, in each case, these would fit into my tiny car.

Reflecting on the day as I relaxed in the bath, I thought of my father at an age perhaps twenty years less than mine today ... when I would have been about three years old.  I thought of my favourite picture of him (reproduced here) and could imagine the man in that picture doing the same as I had been doing this afternoon as I confronted a two-year-old in the ball-pit.  I had decided it would be of practical help (and prevent accidents) if I were to clear up some of the balls that had found their way under chairs and into other areas where they could have been stepped on.  As fast a I put them back in the pit, little Ryan was pushing them out again through one of the holes in the side.  It became quite a battle - one I seemed to be losing - until the cavalry came over the hill in the shape of his parents!  As I gradually, and with some relief, handed control over to them, I realised both my age and how much I had enjoyed myself.

So, perhaps sixty is the new forty ... more tales from this youngster next week!