methods we created a leg and he finished up with a well-turned ankle and five elegant toes. With all his body parts in position the next step was to drape him in royal finery.
Once we started mixing paints, memories of the wise men of my childhood crib began to awaken and I felt as I painted that the colour scheme was almost decided by memory, andthe royal man himself influenced my decision as well. When he was finally dressed, he was resplendent in a glowing robe and crimson cloak, with a golden crown on his black flowing tresses, and holding a jewelled casket of frankincense between his elegant royal fingers. His dark companion turned out as handsome but, while my royal was upright and bearing gifts, his friend was down on one knee and in obvious awe at some unseen wonder. He was dark and intriguing and full of eastern mystery, and his ear-ring glistened with newly polished gold. Their restoration had been a journey back to the old crib, a journey full of the challenge that had made Christmas easier. This was our first Christmas without Con and I was learning that creativity is part of the healing process.
Having restored the two wise men, I had to decide what to do with them. Nobody, it seemed, felt in need of two ancient kings. But our house is old and roomy and over the years an assortment of odds and ends has accumulated, so two wise men would not be out of place. At each side of our front door are two half pillars and these were the perfect perches for them. So now a pair of retired kings guards our front door.
C HAPTER 7
Will You Buy a Ticket?
S elling tickets is not for the faint-hearted. The local garage gave the parish the gift of a car, and the finance committee felt that we needed to go outside the parish to sell sufficient tickets. The decision about the price of the raffle ticket led to long and protracted discussions, with some people thinking that €5 was enough and others going for €20. After much argument and counter-argument a conclusion was finally reached and it came down on the side of €20. So then began the programme of events known as “Will you buy a ticket?”
It turned out to be an experience from which I learnt many things. The first was that the media do not always represent the thinking of the ordinary people and that the chattering minority obliterates the silent majority. The country was awash with the scandal of clerical abuse and we were very apprehensive about the reception we would receive when we went out selling tickets in aid of church restoration. But we discovered that the people did not hold the majority of priests guilty for the sins of the few. They saw the church as belonging to them and many times greeted us with the comment: “Oh,we must support the church!” That was the first surprise, and there were many more to follow.
Our first venue was the Innishannon Steam Rally, which is held every June bank holiday weekend and draws crowds from all around the country. There is a huge interest in vintage steam engines, and once a year all the faithful pour into our parish. We enthusiastically set up a table beside our shining new car at the best vantage point in the rally field; after all, it was our parish and we, of course, demanded the prime location.
Our car was surrounded by vibrant posters proclaiming the wonders of winning a brand-new model for only €20, and we waited full of happy anticipation for the eager buyers to line up. But we waited and waited and waited. Only a tiny minority of the flowing tide of people ventured in our direction. We were discovering that if you go fishing, the fish do not come looking for your bait! You have to cast your net out into the deep. So up we got up off our backsides and sallied out into the flowing throngs, offering our wares and engaging people in conversation.
The first step in selling tickets is that you have to
believe
that the populace is lucky to get this opportunity to buy your ticket and, having convinced yourself