It is ten years ago today, 1st March 2010, that I was appointed to the Church of Ireland parish of Clonenagh in Co Laois. Being instituted as rector on 18th May that year, I wrote on the day of my institution about an inability to say “goodbye.”

“Amongst the boxes of books that will fill the shelves of the Rectory in Mountrath, there are two copies of The House at Pooh Corner. It is too important a book to be left among the novels and two copies are necessary.  The inability to say “goodbye” in a satisfactory way is captured in the words of Pooh and Christopher Robin.

The anguish of Christopher Robin as he tries to explain his going away and the incomprehension of poor Pooh are beautifully human and would have been read to a probably mystified, congregation on Sunday:

‘Then, suddenly again, Christopher Robin, who was still looking at the world with his chin in his hands, called out “Pooh!”

“Yes?” said Pooh.

“When I’m – when – Pooh!”

“Yes, Christopher Robin?”

“I’m not going to do Nothing any more.”

“Never again?”

“Well, not so much. They don’t let you.”

Pooh waited for him to go on, but he was silent again.

“Yes, Christopher Robin?” said Pooh helpfully.

“Pooh, when I’m – you know – when I’m not doing Nothing, will you come up here sometimes?”

“Just Me?”

“Yes, Pooh.”

“Will you be here too?”

“Yes, Pooh, I will be really. I promise I will be, Pooh.”

“That’s good,” said Pooh.

“Pooh, promise you won’t forget about me, ever. Not even when I’m a hundred.”

Pooh thought for a little.

“How old shall I be then?”

“Ninety-nine.”

Pooh nodded.
“I promise,” he said.

Still with his eyes on the world Christopher Robin put out a hand and felt for Pooh’s paw.

“Pooh,” said Christopher Robin earnestly, “if I – if I’m not quite” he stopped and tried again – “. Pooh, whatever happens, you will understand, won’t you?”

“Understand what?”

“Oh, nothing.” He laughed and jumped to his feet. “Come on!”

“Where?” said Pooh.

“Anywhere,” said Christopher Robin.

* * * * *

So they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.

The lines have never lost the capacity to bring a tear, perhaps at times lost that will never be recovered, perhaps at being like Christopher Robin and never being able to say what was wanted.