Some time ago I was participating in a meeting at my local church. The vicar was talking at length about something or other. My mind wandered, uninspired by the vicar’s words. Sometime later I realized that the vicar had stopped talking and noticed he was waving over in my direction. Not having a clue what he had been saying I guessed he was waving for to me to get up and switch the kettle on for tea. I stood up and started making my way over to prepare the refreshments.
There appeared to be some confusion and then the vicar called out for me to stop and come back. He repeated his last sentence (that I hadn’t heard a word of) “And now Margaret will give a vote of thanks”
I was speechless. I realized I had hardly heard a word of his talk and had nothing to say. The silence stretched out, they in their expectation, me in my emptiness of thought.
I waited, they waited. Then, I started talking. What it was, I have no recollection whatsoever to this day. At the end during refreshments, people kept coming up to me to congratulate me on such an inspiring talk. I was speechless again. I had no idea what I had said and only felt that I could not take credit for what, apparently, they had heard.
As far as I was concerned, I was absent, like an empty vessel and I had been used.
Margaret from Wales