AS children many of us were taught a prayer which begins ‘Gentle Jesus, meek and mild.’
Growing older some rejected the idea of gentleness as meaning being weak and a bit feeble.
But gentleness in no way precludes strength.
My adoptive father was one of the gentlest of men, and at the same time one of the strongest.
He wasn’t tall but he had strength of mind, limbs and fingers.
Just five fingers – he lost an arm in World War One.
Volunteering to serve, he fought, was shot down and severely wounded, and left for dead.
This is where the irony of war takes over his story.
Finding him barely alive, German soldiers didn’t shoot him, and instead took him to a field hospital, where German surgeons salvaged his leg, but were unable to save his left arm.
Then German nurses restored him to a degree of health.
With a limp, and learning to use his right hand (he was left handed) with surprising dexterity, he seldom spoke of his experiences.
But he did refer to the gentle kindliness of the German nursing staff, which gave him the strength to regain his usefulness.
And for the rest of his life, gentleness and strength kept him going.
He commuted daily to London, took care of his family, tended his garden, sang in the church choir, and was always ready to help those in need.
Rosi MorganBarry is a member of Wokingham Methodist Church, where Sunday services take place at 10.30am.
For information, visit: wokinghammethodist.org.uk
