“When I used to see Norman holding Fr David’s hand, and the way this priest treated this wreck of a man, with totally unaffected tenderness and respect it used to make me feel really choked. It seems silly to be sentimental about it, Fr David certainly wasn’t, but even now if I visualize it it makes me fill up. I’m not sure why. I suppose it’s partly because I know I couldn’t do it. I’d have been too embarrassed, too selfconscious, too scared that someone like Norman would demand more and more attention. I could never forget myself enough to meet the need of this human being. But for Fr David it was automatic. It was natural to the man to give himself, not to be embarrassed, not to care about the smell. It was instinctive to him to give time and practical love to the least acceptable person in the parish.” (>>)