Love at the Five and Dime

I just wanted to go to bed early on the final evening of our CSAN Directors meeting in Rome but what I would have missed if I had.

We were a group of forty from the Caritas Social Action Network, representing Catholic charities and dioceses in England and Wales, and we had the great fortune to be staying, as we did four years before, at Villa Palazzola, a 13th century Cistercian monastery perched above a volcanic lake, Lago di Albano, and, according to the website, 'Rome's best kept secret'. What a treat it was to step outside into the landscaped gardens and to behold that lake at different times of the day. The sunsets were especially stunning. So too the shimmering light on the surface of the water at night as one looked across to Castel Gandolfo, the papal summer residence, on the far shore.

It wasn't all sun-downers on the terrace and delicious three-course meals under the trees with locally-produces wines (oh, and did I mention that there is also a swimming-pool on site?). We worked hard for the five days we were there. A range of engaging speakers helped us to look at leadership, synodality, and new directions for social mission; in part through the lens of the encyclicals of Pope Francis. There was an enjoyable day in Rome where we had presentations and Mass and lunch at the offices of Caritas Internationalis. That was followed by a reception at the restaurant in Trastevere run by the Sant'Egidio community and I was touched to see that some of the waiters were people with learning disabilities. The next day we were addressed by Maria Nyman who heads Caritas Europa and who gave one of the best definitions I've ever heard of leadership: "Joyfully accepting to serve where we can best serve."

But it wasn't all working and eating and swimming. Like four years before there was music. I decided on this occasion to bring my guitar: the one that, as I explained to some of the delegates, I had been given by a complete stranger in Los Angeles in 1995 after my guitar had been stolen. That beautiful Ovation guitar was a gift and it would be my little gift to share with the CSAN group. Christine of Cafod and I turned out to be a great musical team for the daily liturgies and she managed to get some good sounds out of the chapel organ. Jim of Caritas Cardiff and myself renewed an old partnership in the bar on the Tuesday night (sadly without Sean Ryan this time) and made our way through a range of old Irish ballads. I was on the verge of retiring to my room at a semi-respectable hour when John of Caritas Westminster asked if he could have a go on my guitar. Well, one thing led to another. I said I'd do just one more song before leaving and that went into a second, and a third, and before I knew it Mark of Marriage Care was buying me beer and Raymond of CSAN was buying me whiskeys and it was a wonderful, spontaneous session that concluded at half past midnight. Just enough time for one last look out at the lake and a few hours of sleep before Morning Prayer in the chapel at 7 a.m.!

Fired up by our day in Rome and by many touching encounters I was back in the bar with the guitar on the Wednesday evening for another session which was eclectic and late and huge fun, and with people buying me drinks again and me being unable, again, to say no. But then on Thursday, the final evening, which was billed as 'Music Night', I just didn't feel like it. I know that I'll always have an energy dip in such an intense week, a period when I just want to withdraw from the group. It seemed rather unfortunate that my energy dip was in the early evening prior to the music session which I was supposed to be leading. I left the meal early and went to my room and couldn't face the thought of performing again. I manged to force myself back to the bar/common room area for the nine o'clock start but felt distinctly out of sorts and really didn't want to sing the three of my songs that I had planned. Luckily Phil of Seeking Sanctuary kicked things off with a medley and he was followed by Elizabeth of SVP reciting a poem she had just written. Anyone familiar with the Scotland Road novels of Alexander McCall Smith will know that they often end with a poem written for a dinner party by one of the characters Angus Lordie which encapsulates the sentiments of everyone. It was like that with Elizabeth's poem. It summed up perfectly the incredible week we had shared together and it was greeted at the end by loud and sustained applause.

I was slowly starting to come to life again, and that process was hastened by Dave of the St Antony's Centre picking up my guitar and doing a fantastic set which included an amazing rockabilly version of The Wild Rover. It was time for me. I said I would begin with the song I'd written ten years previously after an unforgettable night out in a music bar in Belfast. I explained that the song, in a nutshell, is about the particular power that music has to bring people together and even at a level that transcends our differences. It turned out that Dave is something of a regular at that bar and he happily joined me for the chorus of Fibber McGees. I was well into my stride by now and introduced a song I'd written at about the same time, the song I'd given to my wife Yim Soon on the occasion of our twentieth wedding anniversary. It's called Twenty Years Ago. And from there the music, and the drinks, simply flowed. At a certain point there came forward Adrian of Caritas Hexham and Newcastle. He said he didn't normally stand up to perform at such occasions but felt that this final evening was a sort of distillation of the spirit of the whole week. He read out the words of a song by Nancy Griffith, Love at the Five and Dime, and I was so touched, both by the lyrics and also by the fact that Adrian had felt moved to do what he did.

'Rita was sixteen years, hazel eyes and chestnut hair
She made the Woolworth counter shine
And Eddie was a sweet romancer, and a darn good dancer
And they'd waltz the aisles of the five and dime…'

When the baton passed back to me I shared with everyone how earlier on I hadn't been able to face the prospect of getting up to perform and had wanted merely to go and curl up in my room. I said that in this week as in any week there would be ups and downs and that life was tough sometimes. And I concluded by saying that at such times we just had to try and hang in there and to trust that somehow, somewhere, with somebody we might be a little vessel for something!

Sitting next to me was Jim of Caritas Northampton who had been singing along and who was providing lyrics on his phone to some of the songs. "That's a lot of somes!" he remarked.

I smiled, and then we sang some more…