Say it loud!

It is often said (well, used to be, when people pronounced and spelt the language better) “Out of the mouths of babes…..” and no, they were not referring to the milky puke that is sometimes dribbled from an infant (or in some cases, projectile vomited like an unpredictable exorcist infant of possession). They were referring to the moment when a child, in an unexpected way, can loudly declare what is not said, but what is (or was) an inescapable truth. The time for this is usually just after everyone has stopped speaking and there is a moment of silence.

It is into that chasm of silence, which the innocent, uncomprehending child (we are talking about the consequences of what the child says, not the ability to be aware) will speak loudly and clearly, causing all to momentarily flinch with embarrassment. I remember, …. well, I remember ‘being told’, of one such incident in the church. Does this make it a ‘hearsay’ memory? One, which I have heard so often, that it is hard to know whether it actually happened. But because it has been planted so strongly in the actual memory, it has become family fact. A bit like the urban myth concept I suppose. However, in the deep silence of which the rituals of the Catholic services were so often punctuated, (for effect I think), the innocent (and probably bored) child would sometimes speak. Loudly.

It is the hearsay memory in this instance. It was a short way into the service when the choir, whom were situated above and behind us in the upper level of the church, had completed singing a beautiful song about the ‘Holy Trinity’ (The Father, The Son and the Holy Ghost’ – For those of you not up on religion, the pages from Genesis to Revelation (King James version) sort of covers the explanation). The priest in all his religious attire and his intentionally affected sonorous voice set about narrating a short lesson, or a long sermon (sometimes it was hard to tell which was which, this is probably why the priest would stand in different places to deliver each part).  Part way into the address, as the voice of the priest droned on, probably about something that even to my young ears I had heard several times before, and just as heads are beginning to droop and nod and others (predominantly our younger family members) would begin to fidget and squirm uncomfortably (partly due to the nature of the seats). One of my brothers turned around and looking up to the rear of the church called out loudly,

 “Hey! You ‘ghosty’ people up there? Sing us the ‘Ghosty’ song.

(Continued tomorrow)