“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old”.  My Uncle Norman is 22. His photo gazes at me as I write. Norman is proudly dressed in his RCAF Uniform, wings prominent on his breast pocket. He was among an elite group of pilots – of the 230 pilots receiving their wings in 1940 only 20 were sent to join with the RAF in the early war years.  He left Canada on a troop ship in February 1941 and four months later he died in a fiery crash landing on returning to England.  

Some have joined me in my use of Celtic Daily Prayer produced by The Northumbria Community for our times of quiet reflection. Their Morning Prayers include this statement of faith; To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed and have come to know that You are the Holy One of God. It has a lyrical touch that belies its conflicted source.  

Tomorrow evening flocks of ghosts and goblins will approach our front door, under watchful parental eyes, holding out their bags yelling “trick or treat” – or as we used to say as kids “Shell out! Shell out!” I enjoy the laughter and the fun of “shelling out” mini-chocolate bars to happy and grateful kids, safely navigating our residential street. 

I burst into an ironic laugh as I meditated on Jesus’ teaching his disciples to pray.  He tells them to say “And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us”. I laughed then because I find that a hard line to pray at the best of times.