Thought for the Week

Argyllshire Advertiser - - DISTRICT NEWS - with Mar­i­lyn Shed­den

I don’t know how many were in the Manch­ester Arena, or at Camp­bel­town Pic­ture House for that mat­ter, but I know the con­cert was live-streamed to 80,000 peo­ple.

I make no bones about the fact that I have al­ways been a Cliff Richard fan.

I find that when I hear the fa­mil­iar strains of Cliff’s songs, which were such a part of my life in the 1960s, nos­tal­gia takes a firm grip on my heart and I yearn for years gone by.

My youth seems just a few dances away, rather than a few decades away, as the words of the songs of my teenage years tum­ble with no need for prompt­ing what­so­ever.

Mu­sic is such an evoca­tive thing and can trans­port us so eas­ily to times gone by when rem­i­nis­cence brings a glow of com­fort but also a sense of long­ing to re­cap­ture the good times.

There was a great feel­ing of ca­ma­raderie in the wee Pic­ture House and it was good to share this com­mon bond of a com­mon past.

Cliff en­ter­tained with his usual ease and pro­fes­sion­al­ism and was backed by a great group of mu­si­cians.

Songs old and new en­chanted his au­di­ence, but it was one song that made me stop and think.

This was when Cliff sang The Lord’s Prayer.

I thought then that, not only the folk in the wee Pic­ture House, not only the folk in the Manch­ester Arena joined in this song, but the 80,000 folk to whom this con­cert was live-streamed also joined in singing The Lord’s Prayer.

So maybe 100,000 peo­ple sang, or heard, The Lord’s Prayer on Fri­day night.

That must mean some­thing.

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