I used to visit an old lady who was a devout Catholic but who felt she was not a very good person because she found it so hard to confess her sins. She felt that confession and indeed any form of prayer had to be conducted in more or less formal language and the idea of using everyday language was quite beyond her ken. So I lent her one of the novels of the renowned Italian author, Giovanni Guareschi which recounts in a very light hearted but nevertheless, heartfelt manner, the endeavours of a priest, Don Camillo, in a small provincial town to renew the faith of his somewhat errant flock and fend off the plots of the Communist Mayor, Peppone. All the time the Priest talks to God with great faith but in ordinary, everyday language.
My little old lady sometimes laughed at these tales. But she told me that they did not really resolve her problem because all the characters were Italian and she was of Irish descent. “Well that’s no matter,” said I, “for I am of Welsh descent but we are all children of God.” She replied,” I don’t care what heathen tribe you come from as long as you give the English a good thumping in the ‘Six Nations’ and one day perhaps even the Italians will beat them too, since their morals are improving according to your book and I will speak to God about this”.