You Make My Sad Heart Sing
On Thursday Ineke and I had our traditional wedding anniversary celebration by travelling the two hours to Oban and traipsing round Aldi for our Christmas shop in the lead up to Christmas.
You may not be surprised to hear that we spent £230. The only reason I’m telling you that is to put the next bit in context. Leaving the supermarket carpark after the shop to go for some lunch, we passed a fella sitting in the freezing and showery conditions. Although he had a sleeping bag held over his head he had nothing to stay dry. We gave the few coins we had, and chatted for a moment. He was trying to get enough money to pay for a hostel.
A couple of hours later we returned to our car. He was still there. I had a poncho in the car so I gave that to him. Inevitably it all felt so inadequate. Not just felt inadequate. It was inadequate.
It made me realise why we all usually walk on by. It felt far harder, far more sobering, far more hypocritical on my part, to actually become involved in a small way, than it ever does when I simply turn a blind eye. Which I often do.
As discussed in a previous blog there are no easy solutions. Doing something inadequate is better than doing nothing. And wallowing in feelings of self-guilt doesn’t help nobody. But on the drive home, I wished we had done more.
Yesterday I went for breakfast with a friend. And when I went to pay, it turned out that another friend, who had been leaving upon our arrival, had paid our bill. It was a really lovely and kind thing to do. But in our case, of course, it was just a bit of icing on the cake of life, not a matter of survival.
Both of these experiences are what we might call Christmas stories, I suppose. Just because of the time of year. But really they are day to day life stories.
So, in a likewise inadequate conclusion - there are lots of ways in which You Make My Sad Heart Sing. Yes you. And not just in the springtime. Thank you. We should keep on doing that for each other.
But there are times when the sadness silences any song worth the name.