The power of prayer

Sensitive sort that I am, I have been thinking a lot about the little girl Madeleine McCann who went missing in Portugal in 2007 and not just because her parents have recently stepped up the campaign for her search with the launch of a book (which I intend to buy); To tell you the truth I have never really forgotten their plight since it was made public 4 years ago. FOUR years.

I admit that my sensitisation to the issue comes from the fact that as a parent of a young girl, the thought of losing my little girl is physically more than I can bear to imagine.  That it happens more often than you think chills me to the bone but also fills me with enormous compassion for people like the McCanns.

Now, I know this is going to sound a little kookie, but being a little bit obsessed with all things spiritual, I often ask the 'guides' to send me a sign that this girl is still alive.  The other day, I believe I got such a sign in the form or not one, but two white feathers.  I took great comfort in that and just as quickly fell into a state of confusion over whether the guides had left this message or Madeleine herself - see I may be an afficionado of the 'science' but I have a long way to go before I can claim any powers.  More's the pity.

Anyway I decided to offer up a little prayer on my way home from work yesterday, as you do but I wanted to make it 'official' so to speak not that praying in one's own front room with a nice stick of incense and a candle or two isn't official - I decided to quickly pop into the local church St. Saviours - appropriate don't you think?

Except that it was in full methodist swing for the night (it's usually Church of England - guess times is hard) and full of Somalians singing and clapping and dancing; I have to say it looked wonderful but surely I didn't belong?  But it was too late, I'd been spotted and pulled into a pew where I remained for the whole seven minute long song.  This is long when you didn't mean to be there at all.  Anyway, with nothing to lose, I started to clap and shuffle with the best of them.

At the end of the song I thanked everyone but explained I had to get home to my daughter and that I'd really only come in to light a candle and pray for Madeleine.  It was obvious they had no idea who I meant but the priesty bloke at the front yelled (he has a microphone - it shook the putty out of the stained glass windows) 'we will pray for you lady!'

And I believe they did - at the top of their lungs.

I offer these prayers to the universe that it may provide a solution and bring comfort to Madeleine and her family. 

Please do the same.  And thanks.