As
mentioned in a recent, previous post, I used my “Couch Convalescence” time to read.
I used to read a lot when I was
younger. Although watching television is
not arduous in any way, it requires enduring annoying adverts and noise. I have a bit of a hearing loss, so paying
attention to conversations is necessary.
But reading is quiet. You can stop at any time and pick it up again
later. Okay, if I’m preaching to avid
readers, well, then I’m wasting time and space. Let’s just say that for me, reading can be
restorative as well as entertaining, without requiring a lot of energy.
Last
autumn, on a sunny morning, “Maverick” and I waited on Platform One at the
local train station to catch a connecting train to Reading. The express train from London, Paddington to
Reading sped by; the silver hulk of train pulled the blare of the engine’s horn
behind it, the wind stirring up latent litter and tumbling it across the
concrete platform.
On the brick
walls hung posters promoting recent film and book releases. The photos
and fonts presented titles, displayed blurbs of reviews and recommendations and
provided images of actors and other illustrations. On more than one occasion I have made mental
notes of these titles, and then researched them on Google later.
A golden background,
with the drawing of a pair of boating shoes caught my attention. The following description stirred my
curiosity.
“When Harold Fry
leaves home one morning to post a letter, with his wife hovering upstairs, he
has no idea that he is about to walk from one end of the country to the other. He has no hiking boots or map, let alone a
compass, waterproof or mobile phone. All
he knows is that he must keep walking.
To save someone’s else’s life.”
So,
here it was, two months later, and the opportunity for some uninterrupted time
presented itself. I stretched my legs
out on the couch, snuggled back into the pillows that were scrunched up in the
couch corner and adjusted the duvet. Maisy
found her spot on top and put her head down.
Opening
the front cover of the book, and turning past the critiques, the author’s
biography and the title page I entered into the world of Harold Fry. It is immediately apparent that there is
discord in the home and marriage of the Fry’s. There is an underlying sadness. Harold’s spring day is changed by the receipt
of a letter from a former work colleague.
Harold’s
life is tedium of retirement without a hobby, a marriage without communication
and no sense of purpose to motivate him. But the letter changes that. His attempt to drop the letter into the
closest mailbox turns into a literal and figurative pilgrimage.
The
walk provides Harold the opportunity to:
· Be ensnared by his words, which means he must
complete the journey he started
· Discover qualities about himself
· Ponder the past and sort out memories
· Realise the freedom that generosity brings
· Forgive himself for his weaknesses
· Face his fears
As I read, I
found myself challenged by Harold’s honesty, humility and determination. This is a story that touches the emotions,
because the reader can so relate to Harold, his wife, Maureen and even the
people Harold meets along the way. It
doesn’t matter that these people are fiction, the reader grows to care about
them. It is a story of loyalty, kindness,
and goodness in a world of disappointment, evil, meanness and grief. It is a story of resilience.
Even
though I couldn’t wait to read the final act of the story, I was also a bit bereft
that my association with Harold Fry was at an end.
The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce
Copyright
2012.
A Black Swan Book: ISBN: 9780552778091;
9780552779043
Transworld Publisher,
61-63
Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA
A Random House Group Company
This is the link to get the book
on Amazon in the UK.
I'm sorry I can't provide a link for it in the USA. But I'm sure Goggle will take you to it.
Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,
"Lady Helene"
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