Tuesday 24 February 2015

D for Deception

Have you ever considered the distinction between lying to someone and deceiving someone? “I must not tell lies.” We are taught this as children, from a very young age (even poor Harry Potter in penance, had to write lines and lines of this repeated mantra, in his case, to his own physical detriment). But to deceive someone, is that as wrong?

In my youth(!), I had auditioned for a singing part in my senior school play, “The Card” and was chuffed when I got a role in the chorus. So what if it wasn't a solo, it was the taking part that mattered, right? Guess not, because when I went home to tell my Mum about after-school rehearsals that I was committing to on Monday nights, the “taking part” bit was mitigated by the not-straightforward logistics of getting home in the dark alone, aged 13.

Reluctantly, I approached the School’s Music Director, Mr. B, the next day to withdraw my name from the show. I apologised for my change of heart and explained that I normally took the school bus home and so would only be allowed to attend lunch-time rehearsals. When he enquired further, I clarified to him that I wasn't permitted to take public transport home on my own after school and so would have no way of getting home on Monday evenings. The annoying thing was that I suspected Mr. B didn't believe me and while I could appreciate that he knew other 13 year olds that were free to roam around town in the evenings, I wasn't one of them and was too embarrassed to spell that out.

As Mr. B grew more suspicious and embarked on a “you've committed to this now” lecture, I suddenly, without thinking, blurted out, “But I also go to the temple on Mondays and won’t make it there in time if I stay for rehearsal after school!”

I still remember how quickly his countenance changed. In a split second, eyebrows were raised and dropped, his voice transformed from an almost indignant, authoritative bark to a demure, passive murmur, suggesting rhetorically, “Now, wasn't it just better to tell the truth in the first place?” I still believe that he took patronising pleasure in telling me how disappointed he was but ultimately, I was excused from the show and that was that.

Well, I was disappointed too, but also marvelled at the irony, I still do today. I hadn't exactly lied (we did go to the temple on Mondays, sometimes) but I had definitely deceived him, albeit unintentionally. I guess lying and deceiving are both wrong, but when someone doesn't want to believe the truth, then deception is the lesser of two evils. At least I don’t have “I must not tell lies” tattooed on my hand, poor Harry Potter indeed!


Monday 9 February 2015

C for Charity

Some of my readers are wondering where I am going with this blog. I am writing about the themes around me (contrived in alphabetical order for fun!), influenced by my 20th -meets- 21st century lenses so that someone (most likely only me!) can look back on these thoughts as a historical-learning exercise.

My mother-in-law always used to say that “Charity begins at home”. I think this was in response to the frequent doorstep visits of Save the Children, Battersea Dogs Home, Greenpeace and the like. Young individuals have often invariably pressed the doorbell at dinner time, looking cold and tired but smiling despite this, asking for a direct debit pledge – only £2 a week or something like that – and promising that this needn’t start today (homage to Casablanca alarm bells sing “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but soon and for the rest of your life”)…Anyway, she would always politely turn them away (sometimes with a biscuit) and then return to the kitchen, shaking her head and would reiterate to me that “Charity begins at Home”.

My interpretation of this was that you should help those around you first; your family, those that are closest to you. Now, I completely agree with this but given the accident of birth that gives us our family (on most occasions), it seems a bit unfair to ignore everyone else. In any case, my mother-in-law always used the word “begin” and I only really appreciated what that meant when she passed away.

I used to drive her to her dentist appointments and so it was with a heavy heart that I returned to the dentist’s clinic to inform them about my mother-in-law. While I was waiting in reception, an elderly lady was sitting down looking a little lost and confused. The dentist had called a taxi for her but it hadn’t arrived. Long story short, I felt the need to give this woman – a total stranger – a lift back to her house. Without hesitation, she accepted my offer and was soon chatting away in my car, telling me about her daughters that lived far away and how she had good neighbours who looked in on her from time to time but otherwise she just got on with life, by herself.

Safely depositing my temporary charge, I drove away, feeling quite good about what had just transpired. I rang the dentist to finish the conversation I never started and she remarked that although my mother-in-law’s absence left me feeling a little less useful, there were others that could benefit from my help.

Looking back, I reflect on my mother-in-law’s words and her example and come away with this: Charity does begin at home and it is at home where we first learn to serve with our hands and our time and not by making monthly payments. And once we’ve learned how, Charity doesn’t end there; it really has no end.

I do the direct debit thing too, it just doesn’t make me feel as good.