Free Down an English Lane by Margaret Thornton Page B

Lord…’
    He knelt down in the pulpit for a few quiet words of prayer whilst the choir and congregation sang the final verse…
    ‘Grant peace on earth, and after we have striven, Peace in Thy heaven.’
    The words were singularly appropriate for the occasion, he thought, as he stood to deliver his sermon. ‘Now, Lord, may the words of my lips and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable in Thy sight…’ he prayed aloud as the members of the congregation bowed their heads.
    He glanced around at them, these folk who looked to him for spiritual guidance, and often for guidance in more worldly matters as well. He sometimes felt inadequate and unworthy of such a responsibility, and yet, somehow, he alwaysmanaged to find the appropriate words of advice or comfort. The appointment of a rector, or of any minister of God, was for the ‘cure of souls’. That was the ancient wordage and the one that was still used in the Church of England.
    ‘My text this morning,’ he began, ‘is not taken from the Bible as is usual. Instead I would like to remind you of the words that our King, George the Sixth, spoke to us in his first Christmas broadcast of the war, when spirits were low and we were full of anxiety for the future…
    ‘I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year, “Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown”. And he replied, “Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.”
    ‘Those words still apply now when we stand on the threshold not of war but of peace…’

    By the time Maisie left the church building, after chatting for a few minutes in the vestry with some of the other choir members, most of the congregation had dispersed. Luke was still at the door bidding farewell to his flock; it was his custom to stay until the last one had departed. She shook his hand and heard his sincere, ‘God bless you, Maisie, my dear.’ Then, as she turned away she caught a glimpse of Bruce with his parents andChristine, standing near the gate talking to Miss Thomson.
    She slowed her steps. She had been hoping not exactly to avoid him, but she did not want to come face to face with him. She had willed herself not to look at him there in the congregation, although she had noticed him when the choir had processed past the end of his row during the first hymn. To her relief, at that moment she also noticed Miss Foster, the headmistress of the school, and Anne Mellodey chatting to two other ladies. Anne lifted her hand in greeting as the two women said their goodbyes and moved away.
    ‘Hello there, Maisie. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you; you had disappeared last night when I was looking for you. I wanted to tell you how very much we enjoyed your song; well, we enjoyed all the concert, of course, didn’t we, Charity?’
    ‘Indeed we did.’ The headmistress nodded. ‘Your solo was delightful, my dear; and as for your Joanie, I felt so proud of her, and Jimmy too. It is so nice to watch a concert that one hasn’t produced oneself, isn’t it, Anne?’
    ‘So it is,’ replied Anne Mellodey. ‘Yes, we were very glad to be members of the audience last night and not to be taking part in any way… How are you, Maisie? I haven’t seen you for quite a while, not to talk to at any rate. You are looking well, and I can see you have been enjoying the sunshine.’
    ‘Yes, I’m…very well, thanks.’ Maisie was relievedthat the tears she had shed the previous night had not done too much damage to her face. She had bathed her red eyes in cold water and had been determined to smile and put on a happy face. It seemed as though her efforts had been successful. ‘And I’ve been enjoying this lovely weather, as you say.’ Her face and arms and her bare legs had turned a pleasing shade of brown. ‘So have all of us. I managed to persuade Mum that she needed a holiday, and she actually agreed to leave the