Thoughts.com Blogs - Just a few minutes more

She walked towards me looking small and fragile but with a serene smile on her face. I indicated to her to sit down but she looked dismayed as she saw the chair. 'Isn't this the bishop's chair?' she whispered but I assured her, with a smile, that he was not there and it was available just to her. She accepted graciously and sat back into the chair which dwarfed her small frame. The Cathedral is always cold, summer or winter and I always long to make people feel more cosy as they settle down to tell us the reason for their prayer request. She gathered her rose pink fleece jacket closely to her and as she pulled the collar closer to her face I noticed her hands, knarled and worn from years of work and longevity, but surprisingly, the nails delicately long and shaped. Her face had the look of an aristocrat which contrasted with the work worn hands. She wore an engagement ring of three diamonds above a broad wedding band, like herself worn with age. Her cheek bones were high and her nose small but aquiline. Her eyes, now pale must once have been her strongest feature and still they were beautiful, blue and misty. Her silver hair was simply cut tucked behind her ears which were adorned with milky white pearl earrings.

We introduced ourselves and she told me her name was Mary. She apologised for having to lie back in the chair and explained it was because of arthritis in her back. 'All those years at the loom,' she told me. It seems to me so amazing that all those years after the mills have closed, those strong women still bear the scars. 'I have so many to ask for, but I promise I will limit it to a few,' she said in an accent which, although distinctly Belfast, still held a hint of a soft Irish brogue. 'There's two daughters I need prayer for. Should I start with the oldest or the youngest?' she asked, looking at me earnestly. 'Whoever needs most,' I told her and I instinctly sat down on the chair beside her, knowing this would be a long list. As she began telling me, I observed her tiny feet in their sensible shoes, shift from left to right, perhaps in an endeavour to keep warm or just from habit, for this lady did not look like someone who sat down a lot. Her worries and concerns were many, for one daughter's marriage, for another who had problems with her family, for a grand daughter in a childless marriage, for a son who had turned away from his faith. For a much loved grandson that he might pass his exams and get away to university, for one who was already there and that he would not be involved with drink or drugs. For a neighbour with very bad feet and a dear friend with cancer. 'Is that too much?' she asked, giving me an apologetic look.'for every one is special to me and there would be more if only there was a few minutes more. 'Let's start at the beginning and see how we get along,' I suggested. 'And you just remind me when I've forgotten someone,' I added.

In repose, her face took on a look of serenity which seemed so apt amongst the stained glass windows above depicting the saints of old. She held my hand as I prayed and I found myself asking God to reward the faith of this great lady in a mighty fashion. Somehow or other I got through all of them, even remembering the names of quite a few. All the while she kept the gentle smile on her face and as I ended the prayer, thanking God and saying Amen, the smile became broader as she placed her hand on top of mine and thanked me so warmly for what I had done. 'Do you know, I just have the greatest feeling that God heard the lot,' she told me earnestly. 'To tell you the truth I never wanted you to stop. Now wasn't that very selfish of me and you with so many more to pray for.' I looked down the aisle and saw that there were not too many still waiting and we had a large team on board that night. 'Not a bit of it,' I assured her. 'But Mary, you asked me to pray for all those people but you never mentioned yourself. Don't you ever have time for you?
'Daughter dear,' she said, tilting her head to the side and looking at me almost mischievously, 'this is it, this is my time. There's nothing more precious to me than time in prayer and you made those prayers tonight very special for me and for that I have to thank you.'
'Believe me, it was a privelege,' I assured her, 'and I hope Mary, you and I will meet often in the same place.' She leant forward in the seat as though she had something special to say. 'I will pray for you dear Elaine, when I get home tonight.' And I knew that she would and I felt all the better for it.

The singer that night sang alone with only her guitar to accompany her. Her voice was pure and clear and unobtrustive. I had been aware of it all that night, but now, as the evening grew to a close, she switched from hymns of past and present and sang her own version of 'Forever Friend.' Mary and I looked at each other and she winked. 'Voice of an angel,' she said, indicating the singer, 'and a good place to use it,' she laughed.

Isn't it the most amazing thing that you can know a person for years and not feel really linked and yet you can meet someone so special for just a few minutes and feel such sharing, such joy. I have a feeling I will see more of Mary and I look forward to every minute of it. As she joined her friend who was waiting for her, she linked her arm and began to walk down the aisle. But before she left she turned round to wave her hand to me and I so happily waved back. Dear Mary, I hope all your prayers are answered.