By Suzanne Pinkerton with an afterword by the churchwardens themselves
It came upon the morning clear
A meeting was foretold.
The Vicar needs the Wardens there
In spite of winter cold.
“We’re short of cash! We’re short of funds!”
Was what he had to say.
“Now go away and tell me soon
How to make people pay!”
Sunday has come; we’re always on
The duty never ends.
We haven’t got the slightest hope
Of coffee with our friends!
“Oh, just a moment!” people cry
“There’s something I MUST ask!”
An angel’s patience is required
To fit us for the task.
The Bishop’s come – its such a treat!
They tell us what they need.
It really isn’t down to us
To see that people feed!
But never mind – one pours the wine
One brings a smart dessert,
Both wish that there had been more help
It really wouldn’t hurt!
We carry poles – they weigh a ton,
On all the special days.
We read the lessons, do the prayers
And never get much praise.
We sit at meetings at a desk
Where everyone can stare,
And wonder if they really think
What are they doing there?
We go to meetings far and wide
And meetings come to us.
At times one really needs a car,
It would take hours by bus!
But still, when Carol-time comes round
And praise from all is loud,
We’re glad we took this tough job on!
And we feel really proud!
The time will come when we are gone
And others take our place.
The need for funds will carry on –
But still the smiling face
Of each who help by word or deed,
Who sing or sweep or pray,
Who cook or serve or teach our kids
Adds joy to every day!