In the Lion's Den

Friendship

As a boy, the stables had been Simon's favourite place.

He had loved the horses and working with them.

He had liked that when he helped out there, the grooms seemed to actually cherish his work.

He had liked the old stable master who had taken a lot of time to explain everything to him and sometimes had invited him to tea in the stable master's lodgings above the stables.

And when he had finally made an actual friend, they had secretly met here, sitting on the wall next to the pump and debating whatever topic they thought worth their while or roaming through the woods behind the stables.

Simon had just turned ten, when the old rector died and a new one was sent to their village.

Father Wheeler paid the obligatory call to Sinclair Manor about a fortnight later and as Mr. Sinclair couldn't provide a convincing answer as to why the boy was not attending catechesis, from the next sunday on he was.

The first time, Simon felt very uncomfortable.

All the other children knew each other from school or playing with one another in the village.

Simon was learning with a tutor, a very strict man who didn't leave a good remark unless the work was spotless.

When he blurted out the answer to one of the questions the rector posed without having raised his hand, the other children laughed at him.

He didn't understand why, because he was sure it had been the right answer.

Still, as he preferred not to be laughed at another time, he avoided speaking for the rest of the class, observing the other children.

He came to two conclusions.

First: the rule was to raise ones hand when wanting to respond.

Second: the other children didn't know proper english.

After giving his lesson, Father Wheeler asked the children if they had any questions, and Simon watched the exchange with growing amazement.

Some of the questions Simon thought plainly stupid - the rector had explained them at lengths and some basic listening would have done the job - and others were totally unrelated to the lesson, or church, for that matter.

If Simon had asked any of these questions to his tutor or, beware, his grandfather, he would have been given a lengthy lecture on etiquette and propriety and the need to think before one spoke.

But the rector answered them all, a patient smile on his fair face and never giving the impression that he thought them inappropriate.

After class, the Father Wheeler had come to Simon , and said:

"I'm glad you're here, son, I know it's a new experience for you, but you will get used to it soon. Maybe you also want to ask a question next time?"

Simon had nodded, although he was not really sure if he wanted to return to this room full of children who had either sceptically glanced or laughed at him.

But he did not have much of a choice.

So as he had to come, he decided to come prepared.

During the week he wrote down all the questions he had.

Some of them about things he had heard in church, some unrelated.