When my aunt was about eight years old she came downstairs on Sunday morning and made the shocking announcement to her very God-fearing family that she would not be going to church that day. Imagine her surprise when her father replied, "That's a very good idea! Shall we go for a walk together?"
It was a very beautiful clear crisp morning on the North Kent beaches. There was a footpath leading out towards the sea which was possible over the sands if you took great care and had a guide prepared to hold your hand and come with you.
Ninety years later and now almost entirely blind, that walk could still be recalled precisely. For a whole morning she had been alone with her father. Even now she could still experience what it felt like and knew that she was loved.
I do not know how long my aunt remained a rebel. It may have been for only a morning. She has been to church for as long as I have known her.
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