Crook

I nearly left for church this morning with a shepherd's crook this morning, but I thought better of it and left it at home.  Pity, really, I rather wish I'd taken it.  We were doing The Good Shepherd  in Sunday Club, and the kids might have liked to be rounded up with the crook.

It's never been used as a shepherd's crook, but it's shaped like one. Mostly it's a stick for long walks over moors, fells, and mountains, a 'third leg' as my dad would say.   It belongs to Tony, and lives in the study, and has its own story.

Some  years ago, when we were living in the house on the website, we were due to move on to another appointment.  We had invested our hearts in that beautiful corner of Northumberland, and leaving hurt.  That was when an elderly gentleman from one of Tony's churches offered him a very special farewell gift.  This man was a skilled maker of crooks and sticks, and his work was renowned and trerasured throughout the shire.  He made Tony a crook to measure, carving the handle out of rhododendron wood from one of our favourite walking places, varnishing it to a shine, and burning Tony's initials into it.  There is love, wisdom and craftsmanship in it, and it is a treasure.

Because it's a treasure, I decided not to take it today.  Tony had said it was OK, and we've used it before in various church contexts, but I simply didn't feel at ease about it.  I left it home and herded the kids with an umbrella instead.  (Yes, it's still umbrella weather here).

Just a few weeks ago, while I was back in the True North, I met the daughter of the woodcarver, and we're still in touch.  I was able to put her  in contact with Tony, and she knows how much he values the crook.  She tells me her father is well over ninety now.  He still carves sticks.  Good man.