On Friday night we had a ceilidh at our church. It was one of those occasions that are now almost unique to churches; an event for all ages, where the aim is to enjoy ourselves in an alcohol-free environment. The youngest present was 18 months; the oldest 89. And both were up dancing! Children were able to run about safely; seniors felt that for an evening at least the generation gap had disappeared. One of our teenagers had invited a pile of friends with the assurance that there would be no preaching!

For me, the highlight of the evening was being able to dance with my beautiful daughter. Amy is now 11 and has been learning “social dancing” at school. So for the first time in her life she had the confidence to take to the floor, knowing what she was doing. She was wearing her new electric blue dress, with stockings and shoes to match. Definitely the belle of the ball. Her insecurity hadn’t gone completely—I was the only man she’d dance with. But I wasn’t complaining. I feel that a particular, pleasant mile-stone has been passed.