Two Fathers

When I was a small child my father thought it would be a good thing to give me a moral education, so every Sunday morning he sent me off to Sunday School at the local village Church of England school, which was different to the State School I attended. There were a lot of Catholics in our area. They were almost always of Irish background taking advantage of the plentiful new rented housing on offer through the New Town system intended to answer the housing shortage after the Second World War, as did everyone else. If you had a job in the area you were offered a life time tenancy of a decent home. Things were very egalitarian then. Some of the Catholic families were naturally bigger so they were allocated the three story six bedroomed houses. Our house was just two stories with three bedrooms. Because it was a new town with young families there were a lot of children living on the estate. The catholic children went to a different school to us but outside school we played together in a friendly and harmonious way. The different schools were never questioned, it wasn't important.

At Sunday school we were taught about Jesus, God, the Bible and to be kind to people, not to steal, or tell lies; all good stuff. We were little children and learnt by mindless repetition; a cynic might say it was indoctrination but it was just what people did and thought then. We had to march round the room singing children's religious songs and at the end of the march we had to put small change into a collection box which we were told was going to poorer children overseas. My dad always gave me a three penny bit for this. I once won the prize of a book about Christmas because of good attendance.

We were told to pray every night by our beds with our hands together to our Heavenly Father in heaven. So I did just that; I wanted to be a good child for my parents and for Sunday School. OK. So I had a Father in heaven. They told me this, so it must be right. But hang on – I also had a physical father here in my home, my Dad. So logically I must have two Fathers, one in heaven and one on Earth. That made sense. After a few years of Sunday School, I was praying before going to bed, and my Dad came in to say goodnight. So I told him Dad, I have two Fathers, my Father in Heaven and you my Father on Earth. He looked at me in a strange and puzzled way; oh OK, he said, yes, yes and he left the room. After a few weeks I didn't go to Sunday School any more and we did other things as a family. I heard him later talking to our catholic neighbour that he had stopped me going to Sunday School; it was good to send your child to learn right from wrong, but I was becoming too religious and that that was a bad thing.