We love visiting the grand churches and palaces but our greatest joy is wandering through the narrow streets and finding the little (but grand) community churches and so it was with St Martins.
At 10.00 am we could feel the excitement. Was it a wedding? A funeral?
Then I got it! Memories and emotions flooded through my body. I was seven years old again!
Now I grew up on an economically challenged council (commission) Estate. Unlike our neighbours, my friend's surnames were Desforges, Valerio, Kempka etc. We were a small island of catholics in a predominantly Protestant community. As a seven year old there were many exciting times but none more so than the 1 May and 1st June - the months of Our Lady and The Sacred Heart. It's only now in this village of St Martin's it strikes me what a shock it must have been for our neighbours to see us walk in procession through the streets, band playing, proudly parading the statues of Mary or Jesus.
Communion frocks and suits were washed and lengthened, shoes polished. Flowers ordered and the choir and band rehearsed! One year my friend Margaret Valerio was crowned May Queen and I was her handmaiden! Oh the joy!
Its over 50 years since I left the Catholic Church but to see this procession was a truly emotional experience.
Ps Don't you love the feet shuffling under the canopy of the trailer bearing the Madonna. What a hot and heavy task that must have been!
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