Auntie Sylvia: Another One Lights the Dust

Yesterday I drove over to Lancaster for the funeral of one of my former Sunday School teachers. Auntie Sylvia, as we called her, was remarkably patient and good-humoured, even with awkward little boys, whose behaviour was not always ideal. She wore a burgundy coloured velvet jacket and loved to put her arm round her little charges. The church’s pastor told an excellent children’s story which was appropriate considering her 60 years’ worth of Sunday School teaching. The gospel was preached and a half-dozen good gospel hymns were well sung.