Here’s to those ordinary people and ordinary lives

Ordinary, unsung lives are often among the most wonderful.

The pressures of life were getting a little too much for Eric, so he went fishing. He and the other men sitting on the riverbank – some who knew each other and some who didn’t – put the world to rights and even checked on each other’s mental health. Eric wouldn’t have been the only one who had his spirits raised by such a simple encounter.

He was a man of a certain age, having a picnic lunch in the park with his wife and grown-up daughter.

They sat at the table in the sunshine long enough for his joints to stiffen. When it came time to move, despite leaning on his stick, he still needed the assistance of his wife and his daughter to get upright and untangled from the seat.

Am I mocking him? Not at all. You see, seconds later, he had his hand on his daughter’s arm, saying something to her. I couldn’t hear his concern, but I heard her reply. “Thanks, dad. I’ll be OK.”

It’s a poignant fact that, should we live long enough, our desire to help and protect our loved ones will eventually outstrip our ability to do so. But the fact that we will still want to... well... that strikes me as beautifully, wonderfully human. Bravo, sir!

He’s 70 and has no intention of retiring.

In his words, he has “too much left to give”. But he just needed a break.

After our chat, he was off to get his father’s shopping and do some housework for him.

There’s no real story there but I still tipped my hat to him as we parted. Here’s to all the people who never make the headlines but just quietly get on with living – and helping.

Stephen doesn’t know where his adult son is these days. They haven’t spoken for years and there are various unresolved problems.

In the meantime, though, through a second marriage, he has acquired an adorable new grandson. Walking home from work he will often see his wife, standing in the bay window, looking out for him with the toddler in her arms.

The delight and excitement on the little lad’s face when he spots his grandpa just fills Stephen’s heart to bursting point and often brings a happy tear to his eye.

It’s an unexpected second chance for him; a chance to not be as foolish as he was in younger years, a chance to know better and do better, and work towards a loving and happy life.

But it’s also a constant reminder that his own child is still out there – and that story isn’t finished yet!

One of Amy’s most treasured possessions as a keen student of her family’s history is an old jewellery box.

“It doesn’t hold any gold or diamonds,” she told me, “but it has my great-gran’s birth and marriage certificates, it has her address book with little scribbled notes, it has her father’s spectacles and the only letter my great-grandad ever wrote – to her, of course.”

When the old woman died, her house was cleared out and a lot of possessions went into an overflowing dustbin left out in the rain. But a neighbour rescued the box and some family photos. Years later, they made their way to Amy.

“It’s quite a thought,” I offered, “that gems like these were in among the rubbish.”

She smiled and said, “But, Francis, gold and diamonds are always mined from dirt and rubble. We shouldn’t be surprised when precious things turn up in unexpected places.”

Gardening is good for heart and soul, Helps us to unwind, Planting, pottering, weeding, Pleasure you’re sure to find. It also keeps us energised, Gives us a sense of pride, When we see what we’ve achieved, With nature by our side.