wandering thoughts

wandering thoughts

I had half-planned to write about my impressions of going to St Peter’s Church in Fulham as their ‘paid’ organist at the beginning of 1943 when I was just 15 years old. Then my mind turned back to the beginning of 1938 when I had left the choir of St Mary’s Church at the head of Bryanston Square and gone with my parents to the little Spiritualist church on the first floor of a building in the Harrow Road. To my 10-year-old self there was nothing unusual about my father and mother conducting the service and myself sitting at the harmonium to accompany the singing of the hymns. After all, I had been much younger than that when I played the harmonium for the Children’s Church at Paddington Chapel. And, at Cameron family parties, when individual relatives sang, they set the sheet music in front of me and I sightread the piano part. There was nothing special about this. It was just what I did. I suppose that’s all part of growing up.

It was much later on, when I had experienced various facets of my former lives, I came to recognise the how and why of my choosing to be born to these particular parents. Playing the piano and the organ when people were gathered together for a purpose became a key factor in my life. In this life I continued a process which had begun many decades earlier. And is likely to continue in lives to come.

francis cameron, oxford

12 march 2012

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