In my mind, a classic trope of Catholic priests was playing overtime, an unpleasantness percolating that might have found its way to the page had it not been for that walk. When I outlined my plans to Paul, he drew a breath and asked if I really wanted to take that path. He didn’t offer me a position of why I should or shouldn’t, just encouraged me to think on the subject.
After a period of discernment, I changed my mind. It would have been easy to pursue my initial course, but equally, it would have introduced disturbing elements to my novel that I would likely have handled clumsily. A lazy cliché in unskilled hands is an ugly device for telling a story. I chose a different route.
Instead, I sought to pursue a more innocent path, one that takes a word that carries the vilest connotations and explores its Greek roots: broadly, the love of children. What brought me to that position was a reflection on an incident that occurred when my son was a Cub Scout.
To support the leadership, I enrolled as a parent volunteer, undertaking elements of training and undergoing a Criminal Records Bureau (CRB) check into my background. Naturally, the training had a heavy emphasis on the safeguarding of children, ensuring that participants fully understand appropriate conduct.
What the training didn’t do, however, was to curb my instincts on the occasion when my son hurt himself during one of the games. As his father, his upset tugged at a powerful emotional cord and I comforted him with a hug, a perfectly acceptable thing for a parent to do when faced with their distressed child. In short order, equilibrium was restored and I didn’t think any more of the incident.
At the end of the evening, the Cub Leader asked if he could have a word. Although I could sense his awkwardness, he managed a difficult situation well, saying that although it was my son that I was comforting, administering a hug was not something that I should do in the role of an Assistant Cub Leader, noting that if someone unaware of our familial relationship witnessed the interaction, there was a risk that they might allege inappropriate behaviour. He also added that while such a complaint would be resolved quickly, a danger existed that residue might stick.
I was horrified at the suggestion and aggrieved that I had to explain to my son that if something similar occurred, I would be unable to provide the same level of comfort. It saddened me that we live in a world where we have to curb our nurturing instincts, but I understood the rationale, as much as the reason for it pained me.
In cogitating Simon’s character, I was reminded of that event and the injury I felt from the rebuke for having comforted my child. I confess, I felt angry that the views expressed by others could cause irreparable damage in observance of a totally innocent act.
And so, I sought to turn the trope on its head to deliver a story that speaks of the power of innocence and how one man recognises that it might be the only thing able to preserve his faith in God.
A Little Something To Hide: Part nine - Simon
Faith is a withering construct for Father Simon Carter, a Catholic priest who can see God only in the eyes of children. When the youngest in the Killalea family faces a terminal illness, it may be more than Father Simon and his faith can take.
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Craig Brown is an author living in Newbury. Discover his serialised novel, 'A Little Something To Hide' at craigbrownauthor.com
BlueSky/Threads/Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2024
15 October 2024
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