I was born in England and was christained in the Church of
England. I grew up attending sunday school at a Zion methodist
chapel. I was married in a methodist chapel. Until recently
religion was something that was there, but was not important to
me. I knew the more popular stories from the Old and New
Testaments and like most people, Church is where I went for
weddings, christenings and funerals.
Only in the last two or three years have I taken a more serious
interest in matters relating to religion and aspects of life
which are affected or influenced by it.
A couple of years ago I visited Egypt, and I was very
apprehensive about being in an Islamic country. (Actually 20
percent of Egyptians are Christians and have been since before
most of Europe). However the warmth of the Egyptian people and
the way the Christians and Muslims live side by side in harmony
had a great effect on me. I was shown round a Christian church by
a Muslim girl tourguide. I visited the Mohammed Ali mosque in the
centre of Cairo and felt a great feeling of peace as I laid on
the rugs in the vast domed mosque.
A few memories stick in my mind. Once while we were sailing down
the Nile on a felucca. At the call to prayer, all the workers in
the fields stopped work and prayed to Allah wherever they were.
It was quite an impressive sight. On another occasion, our group
went to the Valley of the Kings (Tuthankamun etc). Most of the
group went by donkey, but two of us were to go by taxi for
differing reasons. As the donkeys were much slower than the taxi,
we had to wait for a couple of hours in the house of the donkey
owner. Little did we know that we were sat waiting in the donkey
owners' fathers bedroom. He gave us quite a shock when he sat up
in his bed. He, however was not at all surprised to find an
Englishman and an elderly Canadian lady sat on the edge of his
bed. He greeted us in stuttering English and then he got out his
prayer mat and spent the next quarter hour up and down praying to
Allah. There was no-one there for him to impress apart from two 'heathens'.
He certainly impressed me though.
Two years later with my family, I went to Lourdes. Not being a
Catholic, although I new the story of Bernadette vaguely, I did
not go as most do for the pilgrimage. I went because my disabled
son Aaron had wanted to take me there. Each night we were there,
we witnessed and took part in the torchlight procession. To me
the torchlight processions were the highlight of our visit. I was
so impressed by the sound of Ave Maria being sung by the tens of
thousands of people from so many different nationalities. As I
said to Steve, who visits Lourdes as a helper at least twice a
year, that in my Church of England and methodist background
nothing like this was possible. I was filled with a great feeling
of wonder and peace.
During the visit I sang Ave Maria several times, I learnt how to
say Hail Mary, and learnt what the Rosary Beads are for. On the
Sunday our small group of six had a private mass in a tiny chapel
in The Crypt of the Upper Basilica. The priest, knowing that four
of us were not Catholic, helped us by explaining the meaning of
each part of the mass as he took it. Late one night Steve and
myself walked down to the Grotto, it was well after midnight.
There were people there, although not in the same vast numbers as
earlier. The silence was peaceful and we both lit a candle. I
said a prayer for the first time since I could remember.
They say that if you say three Hail Marys by the Statue of the
Crowned Virgin, you will return to Lourdes. I said them quietly
to myself.
Whether I become a Catholic or not only time will tell. For some
reason I hope I do.
I have seen people in Egypt and in Lourdes who have faith. I
never really understood what it meant before, now I am beginning
to.