The late Mrs H was a confirmed atheist.  Not a surprise given the hellish (!) childhood she had and she hated the thought of their being another life, what with the one she had having been so shite.

But when I got accepted into theological college back in 2011 she supported me all the way.  At least all the way until she was crippled 4 months later.  Which means either there is no God or he really, really hated us.

Odd to say, though,  there was one moment where she felt as though there might be something.  And that happened during an all too brief visit to Beverley Minster a couple of decades back.  She may have had no time for the putative existence of God but she loved an old church building.

When we walked in she said it was the one and only time she felt a peace come over her.  She even lit a candle for her recently deceased Uncle Davie and I’ve sent them money ever year as a thank you for that brief moment of serenity.

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