20 - Non Thinking Day

Today seems to be a non-thinking day - I just cannot hink of anything with which to preface this next part of Mary Collins' story, continued from testerday's blog ...

As she sat there on those wet stones with tears drying on her cheeks, she wished with all her heart to have Mr Fordyce's quiet strength with her now.

"You're not only wise, young lass, but you're very strong ... very strong indeed," he'd have said, or words to that effect, and then given her a choice of delicious, doughy, sweet treats ... 'Oh my God!' she thought, 'maybe that's the reason for my weight problems!' She'd been inoculating herself against the pain with delicious, doughy, sweet treats. Then she laughed, realising that stressed spelt backwards was desserts - one was the antidote for the other! As she chuckled to herself, she heard a scuffle behind her.

"So, Mary lass, your sadness comes again. What's it feeling like, young lady?" asked Mr Fordyce.

Before she knew it she was in his arms, hugging him with a lifetime's deep gratitude.

"Och aye, lass, not so hard on an old man," he said, chuckling.

"Oh, oh, sorry!" said Mary, loosening her grip on him but unable to let go completely.

"So you've come back to the old shop for another doughnut, then?" he asked, standing back with his hands on her shoulders.

"Oh I know it's silly, really," she said. "I know the old shop's shut up and no one's here but it just seems so safe here. So calming."

"Well, we weren't here till a month ago when the house next door came up for rent and so we've moved back," he said, looking into her eyes steadily. "I do miss the shop and I do miss our chats. But life goes on, doesn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it does," said Mary with a smile. "But why do the good things change and the bad things stay the same?"

"Do you think it's time for a doughnut, Mary lass?" he asked, wiping his hand over his bald head.

"Oh, Mr Fordyce, no doughnuts but a cup of tea would be lovely!" she said, hugging his broad frame again.

"What! No doughnuts?" he said, chuckling. "But they fix everything!"

"No they don't," said Mary. "You do."

"Och aye lass, you're too kind," he said. "let's get you inside and have a chat about that big London town and everything else - see if we can fix the world tonight!"

As she entered the small cottage, the smell of wet wool and home baking welcomed her with its familiar homeliness. The worn patterned carpet, the ugly china ornaments, the traditional embroidery and doyleys all smiled back at her with the welcome of an old friend. In the kitchen, where all good chats and cups of tea were held, she smiled to see Mrs Fordyce had not changed - this short, round, bright-eyed lady with the white curly hair, the red and white checked apron and the soft smile.

The quiet, warm love of these two people eked out of the walls and the furniture and filled Mary to overflowing. Her tears started again.

"Och lass, come here," said Mrs Fordyce, taking her hand and looking into her eyes. "It's all a bit bloomin' much, sometimes, isn't it?"

"Oh Mrs Fordyce ..." said Mary, "why couldn't you have been my parents? It's all so unfair."

"Yes, it seems to be an upside down world and, for all we know, it probably is," said Mrs Fordyce smiling while her husband put cups, teapot, milk and cakes on the table. "Take a seat and tell of your upside down world, lass."

Mary sat, wiped her tears with the back of her hand and smiled. "Actually, I feel like a lost zygote ..."

"Lost what?" asked Mr Fordyce.

"Lost zygote," said Mary. "You know, it's like God or one of his angels was flying over with the seed of me to plant in this household, your family, and they got the wrong address or got bumped or confused or lost or something and that seed ended up in the wrong family. I got the wrong parents!"

The Fordyces laughed at the picture she had painted and Mr Fordyce patted her hand. "Yes, it all seems so wrong at times but there's nothing we can't learn from everyone, lass."

Mary chuckled at his confusing double negative, trying to unravel it.
"Oh, Mr Fordyce, I don't want to learn anything. I just want nice people I can love," she said. "Just some simplicity, some compassion. It shouldn't be so hard ..."

"Now, Mary lass, you're a grown woman so there'll be nae more Mr Fordyce and Mrs Fordyce - it's James and Isobel, ye ken?"

"Uh, yes," said Mary, pleased to be welcomed into the world of adults, while a little saddened to have left her childhood somewhere.

"And, t'other thing I ken is that, aye, the world does seem so unfair at times," said James. "But I ken this to be true and I dinna' ken how I know - it's that God does not make an unfair world, we do. The unfairness, as we see it, is because we choose to look at it that way."
Mary was silenced by the longest speech she had ever heard from Mr Fordyce ... oh, James. Something resounded in her heart and she knew it was a truth she should savour for a long time.

"You see, Mary lass, it's ower likely yer parents, who you struggle with so much, are your special teachers," he said.

"What?" exclaimed Mary.

"Hear me out, lass," said James, holding his hand up. "It's a possibility that yer learning a grand lesson from yer family - that ye can't win the battle by fighting back."

Mary smiled at the irony of his words and just knew, somehow, that there certainly was something in what he said.

"Well, whatever I'm learning," said Mary with a wry smile, "it's gotta' be about fighting, so you may well be right! But it's all so unfair. Why won't they talk to me, listen to me ... just be reasonable?"

"Ye sound just like a young baker I once knew," said Isobel, patting her hand. Her gentle smile was calming. "Ye see, he was so enthusiastic and wanted to make a splash in the village. Ye ken, do something special, like. So he rushed into making all sorts of fancy delicacies, delicacies that hadn't been seen in these parts before. He was so proud of himself for his original creations and, day after day, there be another batch of something wondrous displayed in his window."

"And the people flocked to see them?" asked Mary.

"Aye lass, they did!" said Isobel smiling at her husband. "But they only came to look. They weren't buying and of this 'foreign muck' as some called it."

"That's ... that's just silly. What's wrong with people! Didn't they want to try the new things?" asked Mary.

"Aye, many did want to try them but they were afraid of what their neighbours would think, buying all this fancy new stuff," said Isobel. "Those in fear or uncertainty are always the noisy ones, the ones others have to listen to."

"So, what happened to the baker?" asked Mary. "Did he have to close his shop?"

"Aye lass, it nearly came to that," said James, smiling at Isobel. "But for the intervention of a sweet young thing who came into his shop one day and insisted on taking him out the back for a chat."

"A chat?" asked Mary.

"Aye lass, a chat about baking, business and the affairs of the world!" said James, chuckling. "I was furious with the world for not buying my wonderful baking ..."

"Aha, so you were the young baker!" said Mary, suddenly getting it.

"Yes, twas I!" said James. "And this young lass sat me down and asked if I wanted to make a success of this bakery and of my life. Silly question! So, between outbursts of indignation from me, she explained that I could only make a living by making what people wanted - not what I wanted to force on them."

"And so that's how you made such a success of your bakery ..." said Mary.

"Ooo, not too fast there lassie!" said Isobel. "Just as James had to give people the opportunity to buy what they wanted, I had to give young James here the opportunity to buy my ideas. It took a little time, I can tell you!"

"Och aye, I wasn't very open to logic in those days as I thought I knew it all. Ye ken, like most young people," said James. "And so it took a little time for me to accept her wisdom and the shortage of money is a great thing to change a person's mind! I did catch on quite quickly, I thought."

"So, that's how you two met?" asked Mary.

"Aye, so it was," said Isobel, smiling at the memory.

"And why are we telling you this?" asked James.

"Oh, I don't know," said Mary.