11 September: You have to help me III

postbox.clitheroe

A Victorian letter box in Sabden, Lancashire.

Last year I wrote about how Abel went with me to post a letter I had written, and he told me, ‘You have to help me.’ He meant I would have to lift him up to reach the slot in the letter box. 15 months on, he can manage that himself.

Today’s post was a party invitation to his uncle; ‘He can’t come without an invitation.’ I wrote out the letters of Uncle George’s name as he looked  on. Then he wrote out ‘G e o r g e’ without referring to my script.

It’s interesting to see how many unspoken helps are going on here, Abel helping me, for example, to remember good manners and invite George properly, then writing his uncle’s name for me in his colour of choice; I helping him to print the sheet, showing him where to write and talking him through each letter in turn.

A network of loving your neighbour (or your grandad or grandson) as yourself. Again, as last year, I’ll not spell out all the possible lessons that occur to me, but we are the Body of Christ, and we build up that body by exercising it. And occasionally reflecting on what we are doing.

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