Yours Truly, Pierre Stone by Sam Bain

Author:Sam Bain
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: BSB LLP
Published: 2013-11-24T18:30:00+00:00

PIERRE STONE.

9th October 1993

Dear Marie,

Today was the day of my mother’s funeral. Doreen and Barry Fox picked me up at 2:45 from my house to get to the chapel by 3:15, which is when the service was meant to start. It’s only down the road, so we got there a little early, about 3:00, and once Barry had parked the car we walked around the cemetery for a few minutes. I was wearing my best clothes, as Doreen had suggested: my blazer, brown check trousers, navy blue shirt and striped yellow tie. Also I was wearing my socks with pigs and clouds on them. The shirt was only short sleeved, but since I was wearing a jacket that didn’t matter.

Then we went to the chapel, and while we were waiting outside I took a couple of photos of Doreen and Barry with my camera. As I was doing that a woman approached us. I didn’t recognize her, but I could tell that Doreen did. She introduced herself as Miriam Moule, from Christian Aid. She was a bit nervous and she talked quite fast about what a great help my mother had been, and how kind she was, and how helpful she had been, etc.

I couldn’t think of anything to say but luckily the vicar soon appeared. He seemed friendly and nice, although I didn’t like his hair, which was scraped over the top of his head to hide the fact that he was bald. I took a photograph of him and then he shook all our hands and guided us into the chapel. The chapel was much bigger than I had expected, with quite a lot of pews and a pulpit for the priest in the right hand corner. In the middle, where the altar normally would be, was a sort of table made of rollers leading back towards some curtains in the wall. Beside the table on both sides were big vases of flowers, and I took some photos of those too.

We settled down in a pew, second from the front on the right hand side, just in front of the pulpit. The priest was nowhere to be seen, and nothing happened for several minutes. I looked over at Miriam and saw that she was kneeling on a cushion, with her hands clasped on the hymn-rail in front of her, her eyes closed. I looked at Barry, and then he looked back at me. Next the priest appeared and went up into the pulpit.

Barry handed me a little booklet; I watched him open his and then turned to the same page myself.

“Please stand,” said the vicar, and we all did, although it took Miriam a bit longer. “Jesus said, I am the resurrection, and I am the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die.”

I thought about this for a moment but I couldn’t understand it. I was going to ask the vicar to repeat himself but then I remembered what Mr.

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