Francis Gay

THEY were two different conversations about the same thing.

Jim walks his dog of an evening. As he walks, he checks on the houses of half-a-dozen elderly neighbours. He might glance through the window, notice if lights are on, curtains drawn, etc. He’s looking for signs of activity, and if they aren’t there he might knock on a door.

Alec goes for his paper in the morning and knocks on three doors along the way, just to say hello

Both, in their own way, are helping but – looking at it from the point of view of one of the ones being helped – it might be nicer not to wait until something goes wrong before getting involved, but rather reach out at other times just to confirm everything’s going okay. THE church Robert goes to was built with 10 steps leading up to the front door.

These days, there is a side entrance with a gently sloping ramp, but when he was little he remembers Mrs Wood waiting patiently at the bottom of those steps every Sunday.

“I remember her in her 80s,” he told me, “and none too steady. But she never waited long before one of the men carried her up those steps.”

I wondered if that might not have been embarrassing for the lady. “Not at all,” Robert explained. “She had carried most of those men when they were small and unsteady on their feet. They were simply returning the favour.”

Independence is a wonderful thing. Inter-dependence – depending on each other – can also be a beautiful thing!