A special story
I’ve just been reading about Phyllis’s special angel and it reminded me of a story of my own.

When Christian and Dominique were small (before Olivier was born), we took them into the village church to see the stained glass window. This has always been special to me because it depicts St. George and the dragon, St. George being the patron saint of England (and it was his day yesterday). I swear that when we went in there was no one there. We looked at the window and talked about the dragon and suddenly noticed a nun sitting in the corner at the side of the alter. She was dressed in brown, I’ve never ever seen a nun dressed in brown before or since. Christian was always an outgoing affectionate child and ran to her with open arms which pleased her a lot. They hugged and she asked him his name, when he told her he was called Christian, she explained that he had been given a very special name.

In the past there had been a small nunnery across the road from the church, the monks (who lived across the park) and nuns left L’Houmeau in the early eighties. Did we see a ghost? If we did, she was a very nice ghost and we certainly didn’t feel afraid. There are nuns in La Rochelle, they always wear grey. As it happens Christian is the least spiritual of my three children. There is always hope.