Five funerals and a baptism

During the last six weeks I have attended three funerals and am now waiting for details of the funerals of two more friends. When I came to live here, 22 years ago, our little church on the hill was the centre of a small but thriving community. The church holds about 70 people and we had two services on Sundays in order to accommodate everyone. In the holiday season, the extra visitors would stand outside, crowding the area around the well.

Life has changed a lot in just a few years with fewer young people attending church or supporting village events.  Just ten years ago, I had between 20 and 30 children in my group and now not a single child comes to church. 


Our ageing population is dwindling. These latest deaths bring our regular congregation down to forty. The little parish is no longer viable and we have had to join with a larger one in a nearby town, with our beautiful little chapel being used only for weddings and funerals. I don't know if this is typical of village churches everywhere.


On a happier note, we were in Oxfordshire last weekend for our grandson's baptism. Benjamin was too big to wear the family christening gown, last worn by Millie but here he is looking very smart in his blue velvet suit:

And here he is with proud parents, godmothers and Fr Jamie in their bigger and, hopefully, more thriving parish church.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.

Alexander Pope