THE OLD CHURCH

I was home on leave from the Army, two weeks had been granted me and I was determined to make the most of this rare break. Having been away from home five years, I had lost touch with most of my old pals. I made up my mind to call around on some of them and see if we could hang around and have a drink or two as we did in the old days. The first two pals I called on were out “courting” as their families explained. So I worked on down the list of names and found all of them had either moved on, got married or had found regular girlfriends and settled down.

Three days of my leave had gone by and I hadn’t been able to share my time with anyone from my past, so, on the fourth night, I wandered down to the nearest local pub, to see if I could find anyone who remembered me. It was eight o’clock in the evening and a Thursday night, the pub was dead. I didn’t recognise any of the staff behind the bar. I had a quick drink and moved on. It was a cool night and I felt a bit of rain on my face. Pulling up my coat collar I began to hurry homewards. The streets were quiet and the rain began to persist. I was approaching an old church I knew well, it was a place where I had attended a youth club when I was younger. I was hurrying past the main gates of the small church yard when the skies really opened – I decided to dash towards the church and shelter in the porch till the heavy rain passed.

Feeling pretty miserable with myself I sat on the stone bench inside the porch and looked out at the rain. It was now turning into a real storm and I could hear distant thunder. I moved across the seat, nearer to the church doors, to escape the heavy raindrops that were blowing inwards. After a short while the thunder grew louder and lightning bolts were now lighting up the stormy sky. My self pitying mood lifted and the drama of the weather somehow pleased me. I stood up and leaned against the doors behind me and watched the night skies lighting up with natural energy.