One Mistake and Two Surprises

It was with some trepidation that, on an autumn morning nearly twelve years ago, I crossed the threshold of a new church ... and a new phase of my life.   I was warmly greeted by a lady named Ann, who spotted the cross I always wear, put two and two together and made five.  She had clearly been watching out for a visiting preacher representing one of our supported societies, took me for him and asked, "Are you our visitor?"

Unsurprisingly, when hearing a new voice, what I heard was the more expected, "Are you a visitor?"  When I told her I was, she ushered me to a seat next to where she would be sitting.  It wasn't until I didn't get up to deliver the sermon that she realised her error.  From that day, we've never exchanged more than a smile of recognition - perhaps recalling our first meeting - and the usual friendship of fellow worshippers ... until last weekend.

For some months now, I've been volunteering at a weekly drop-in at our local Salvation Army.  As a result, I received an invitation to a concert and strawberry tea at their hall last Sunday, in support of their nationwide social work.  I arrived in good time and was settling into my seat when Ann arrived with two friends whom I recognised from the church.  By then the hall was getting full and they were scattered among the spare seats.

The concert included a visiting group of ladies, one of whom introduced them individually.  One was said to come from my home town in Norfolk, where she was engaged to the bandmaster.  Through social media, I was almost certain that my second cousin, whom I knew to belong to the band, held that post, and afterwards I approached this singer to enquire further.  It turned out that I was correct in my assumption, and that the two of us are shortly to become related.  Naturally, she was agog to know more and, in the crowd, we resolved to meet outside for a chat after we had gathered some food.

with my cousin-to-be

As I emerged into the garden, I was spotted by Ann who, in the way of these gatherings, recognised a fellow church-member and invited me to join her and her friends at one of the tables.  When our plates were empty, she offered to get refills, since I was chatting to someone else at the table.  After a while, my new-found cousin-to-be approached, saying, "I'm going to stick near you, there's lots I need to write down!"  She also wanted a photograph, so we engaged the help of one of the local corps who had been filming the concert, who drew us into the shade and obliged us in this.

We chatted amiably about the many ways in which her fiance and I were linked, through relationship and also the fact that he would know my daughter but not me.  And then out of the blue came Ann, again bearing food.  She handed over a strawberry crumble saying, "there were only two left ... I thought you might like the last one!"  I was so overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of this caring octogenarian, whom I've had virtually nothing to do with in these twelve years, that I fear my reaction may have been less grateful than was due!