Page 28 - LOTN Autumn Issue 48 2021

FAITH AND CULTURE
The Candle, Granny, and the Priest

A short story by Joyce Davies, St Margaret’s and the Sacred Heart parish, Shetland.

The Candle. The year is 1928.

Marie lit the candle and placed it gently in the centre of the dining table in her
small and cosy sitting room. She surrounded the candle with pine cones, and
some leaves her daughter Flora had picked up whilst the two of them had walked
together through the woods that very afternoon. It looked simple but beautiful
she thought.
The candle had a gorgeous rose scent and it quickly spread across the room
which Marie enjoyed immediately. Candles were precious to her. Light warming
dark places she thought to herself. Memories of her childhood in Glasgow. Gifts
given to her over the years by her family and friends. Candles were always a much
welcomed gift and this particular one was very precious. She had taken it out of its
box and decided to have it on the table this evening. She and her daughter Flora
were eating together this evening as tomorrow her much loved only daughter was
heading off back to Nursing College after spending some of the summer at home
with her mum.
Flora was busy cooking in the kitchen, so Marie sat slowly down at her table her
eyes fixed on the candle flames as they moved gently around the room. Marie smiled to herself at the thought that after
so many years of looking after Flora here she found herself being looked after by her. The thought gave her great comfort.
Gosh, she was going to miss Flora, but she felt so deeply proud of all she had achieved. Bringing up Flora on her own had
been a struggle at times but she had grown to be a fine young woman. Her husband William had died of TB when Flora
was just two years old.

Granny. The year is 1952.
Twelve year old Liam picked up the shiny blue and pink heart shaped box. He
knew it well for his Granny Marie had never let it be far from wherever she was in
her peerie flat. It would sit on the smallest of the nest tables next to granny’s fireside
chair. Granny, the thought of life without her, was unimaginable. She had looked
after him throughout his life for both his parents worked in the centre of the city.
Granny Marie had always been there when he finished school, always fun, always
making sure he did his homework, ate all his meals, and looked smart.
But yesterday Liam had attended Granny’s funeral Mass at the Chapel that she
went to several times a week. Granny had lived in the same flat ever since she
married. Liam lived nearby. Liam had never attended a funeral. His parents said he
didn’t need to go but he told them both that he had to go, he simply had to. He had
sat in between his parents. Whenever they had to stand up, it felt like he was being
held up by both of them.
Liam tentatively opened the lid of Granny’s heart shaped box. Inside he saw her
familiar bright red Rosary beads, the ones she used daily. The ones she had taught
him to pray the Rosary with. Liam lit a small candle for granny for she had always
loved candles. Liam had often bought her
one for her birthday and Christmas. He also
would bring her one as a gift when he went
away with his mum and dad on holiday. His
mum always bought granny candles too. Mum said that when she was growing up
the two of them would always have a candle on the table at dinner time whenever
it was a special occasion. Mum had loved this so much that she had always done
this too when she grew up and had a home of her own.
Liam watched the flame of the candle he now lit for her granny, holding the
Rosary beads in his hands he began to pray the Rosary, Hail Mary Full of Grace…
Liam had been surprised that Granny had chosen him to be left with such a
precious gift as he knew these beads had meant the world to granny. Then a
thought occurred to him, it was granny’s way of telling him so did he.

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