Eternity glimpsed
On Saturday I visited what must surely be one of the most surprising properties on London’s Oxford Street. Entering through a small doorway no bigger than you might expect from an apartment or a shop, I found myself in the Salvation Army’s Regent Hall. This vast auditorium is hidden away behind the shops and, like the Tardis, seems bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside. Not only that, but on the hottest Saturday of the year it provided a marked contrast to the teeming crowds on the hot pavements outside. The event I was attending had stories, business reports, music from Spain and Chile and many things to inspire. However, one small moment caught my eye:
Like a minnow through a shoal of bright parrot fish, or a dull brown moth in a flutter of peacock butterflies she has found a path through all the brash flesh and elegant fashion outside. Her skirt is floral, her blouse a faded print. On the tight curls of her graying hair she wears a bright headscarf, and buttoned primly over it all is a crocheted gray cardigan. In her hand she carries a re-usable carrier bag which bears the marks of many foldings and the printed images of different views from Barbados. Placing it neatly beside her chair she lifts her head, draws a breath and sings with the crowd. In here she is neither little nor great, neither outdated nor upstaged, neither rich nor poor. In here, she is the King’s daughter – and that is all that matters.
Image: amazonaws.com
