Bedfordshire Archives Service Catalogue
  • Reference
    AU34/21/7/16/34
  • Title
    Letter from R P S Waddy
  • Date free text
    9 December 1988
  • Production date
    From: 1988 To: 1988
  • Scope and Content
    A typewritten letter from R P S Waddy (former Rector of St Andrew's, Ampthill) to Honora Grimmer, half typed onto the invitation for Beaminster Church, including his wording for his Diamond Jubilee of his time in the Church: "Half of my news is enclosed; the Diamond Jubilee promises to be a Good Do, and the Bishop of Salisbury is coming to preach and add his cachet to the Day. I wrote to Leicester, enquiring whether there was any special note in the registers, and was told No, Nothing Untoward had been noted. I hope the day itself will be equally Toward. Even the name of the preacher didn't help much; it was Jones. (My deaconing had been far more dramatic; it was the coldest day of my life (so far) and one of the new deacons denounced the Bishop for wearing a cope - and was refused a licenece forthwith. Alas, I don't know the end of that story; did he end on Mount Athos or become a papist? The other half of my news is that I have accepted a flat in the clergy retirement home, Manormead, at Hindhead, near Guildford. The offer came out of the blue, but at 84 1/2 it seems to make sense; I was most impressed with the friendliness of the 35 residents, who really made me feel (as in Hebrews II v.40) that the home would not be perfect until I arrived! And there is a nursing home at the other end when we can't cope. So I'll move probably in late January, after ten years in Dorset. We hope that Havana's choice of a term in a Delhi school, on loan from Bryanston, will be a success; she fixed it up herself, and means to enjoy it. It means that Stacy and Giles her parents can't be at my Do, but Christopher will be there to uphold me. Much love to Ampthill. It is fun to look back over these sixty years, when I was a rough diamond waiting for life to cut and polish me: 'Faith begins with an experiment and ends with an experience'. 'Shave Every Day' was the one scrap of spiritual advice from the preacher at my diaconate, himself liberally moustached; and shave I did every morning at 6:30 before our daily eucharist - in the tepid remains of my hot water bottle; my digs had hot water only on bath nights. Shave I do still, despite the clerical cult of the hirsute. And cycling over the cobbles of Leicester to Saint Peter's has left bumpy memories but no permanent contusions. 1928 was indeed a year rich in exploration among the folk of my district of Highfields, now a Caribbean colony, as I went About Our Father's Business; where I learnt for the first time that work is the most satisfying of all ploys. In those days anyway every door had a welcome, and every hob a kettle; and a 'Smile turns Them into Us'. Now the bicycle has become a Ford Escort, my Aga water is always hot; and to stand at the altar is still my greatest joy and privilege. My four grandchildren are the apples of both my eyes (now licensed for another year of driving). Havana Marking of Bryanston is off to a Delhi school for a term. Drusilla Waddy is at Benenden, Daniel and Jocelyn are at Wellesley House, Broadstairs. And I am cared for at all points. Who knows whether 'The Best Is Yet to Be' round the next corner - a day's march nearer home? Pat Stacy Waddy"
  • Level of description
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