Francis Gay

Whenever we have good times, we should all celebrate them. Woo! Hoo!

In every day we’re given, We should take the time, To appreciate the little things, And enjoy the warm sunshine; Listen to the birds sing, And make a wish or two, Seasons change and colours fade,

See the beauty in all you do.

The little girl was obviously enjoying herself.

And she had found a song – which was probably older than her mother – to fit the mood.

As she skipped along the path, she sang: “Celebrate good times. Come on!”

And, as I approached, I added: “Woo! Hoo!” She smiled slightly, barely acknowledging me.

Then, as she skipped on, I heard her sing, “Celebrate good times… Woo! Hoo!”

We meet people of many ages and situations as we travel along.

One of the greatest joys, I have found, is adding to their “song”.

Never detract, create a space where they can express themselves when we can and – best of all – may we help others discover their own song.

Mandy took her two-year-old daughter Amelia to the doctor’s surgery the other day.

Not feeling well to start off with, the little one wasn’t taking the wait for her appointment well.

In fact she was having a bit of a tantrum.

Then an elderly man sitting across from them put aside his own aches and pains and started entertaining her by pulling funny faces and making shapes with his hands.

Amelia went from crying to being curious. Then she was entranced. Then she was rolling about laughing.

Mandy reports her daughter -and the doctor – had a much more pleasurable appointment than they might have had because of it.

No doubt Amelia was prescribed good medicine by the doctor, but who’s to say she didn’t also get good medicine in the waiting room?

I heard the woman say: “I’m really sorry for meddling”. And Harry replied: “Yeah. It’s very annoying!”

But there was something about the tones and I couldn’t help asking Harry about it afterwards.

“She was telling me about someone who needed help. A lot of help. Someone I don’t even know. And now I’m going to have to get involved.”

I suggested that he surely didn’t have to get involved.

Then I asked what she had said that was “very annoying.”

“I do have to get involved,” Harry explained.

“Because she explained to me that I am ideally placed to help. And she was right! That’s the annoying bit.”

But my friend wasn’t really annoyed. I’m sure the other man will be helped indeed.

And long may his wise friend carry on “meddling” to such good effect.

Tom had spent most of the week helping Declan get back on his feet.

At the end of the time, Declan tried to express his thanks.

Struggling with his emotions, he said: “You have no idea how much I appreciate you …”

Tom’s mind ran ahead, wondering which of his efforts meant the most.

Was it getting Declan a room in a hostel, or paying for his electricity, or taking him for dinner when he hadn’t eaten for days.

“No, for talking to me like a human being,” Declan said. “It’s been a while.”

It was like a blow to the heart for Tom.

The least of the things he had done had meant the most to the man he was helping. It’s often the way.

And perhaps if we spent more time talking to each other there would be fewer upsidedown lives needing turned right way up.