Forged with Flames by Ann Fogarty, Anne Crawford

synagogue. He and I often discussed religious matters over dinner. He was studying different religious traditions at a night class at the time and I had just begun my journey into spiritual matters. He invited me to go along tosynagogue with them, which I did once or twice, finding some similarities but also differences from my own experiences in church, particularly the separation of men and women in the services. My most vivid memories in this household were of the weekly Sabbath meals, a ritual that intrigued and warmed me. As Mrs Maybaum prepared the meal, I’d get the three older children ready, washing their hair, giving them baths, cutting their nails and dressing them in their best clothes. We’d come to the table set with twin silver candelabras and the good crockery, and sit down to the smell of a freshly baked plait of bread, waiting until Mr Maybaum would begin the meal by reciting a prayer, Barukh Ata Adonai Eloheinu … After a blessing, the table would come alive with talk and laughter amid the aroma of chicken soup, roast meat and vegetables, then baked apples for dessert. This is where I drank wine for the first time and black tea with lemon. Mr and Mrs Maybaum included me in everything, explaining the meaning of the Hebrew chanting, the lighting of the candles and breaking of the bread. I loved it, feeling the truly spiritual dimension of this beautiful ritual. The family celebrated all the religious events with gusto, even putting great effort into celebrating Christmas for me.
    Apart from being exposed to new cultural and religious practices, living with the Maybaums was an extraordinarily rich experience in the sense that it showed me how different families could operate. Feelings and appreciation flowed freely and openly here, conversation was often vigorous. I knew I was a valued member of their family because they actually told me so.
    The workload was much greater but the job was a huge improvement. Inge, the au pair girl, was the same age as me and we soon became good friends. I felt better than I had for a long,long time. Both parents often said they hoped that I’d stay with them for many years and I hoped so too. Well, for a long time, if not years, because you never know what’s around the corner.
    During this period, my parents and Jill came down to London for their summer holiday and were able to meet the Maybaums and see me in my new environment. I felt very grown-up and proud of myself, both as a wage-earner and an older sister when I was able to buy Jill a record she really wanted but couldn’t afford herself.
    My off-duty time, though, was only a few hours twice a week. I had to feed Rebecca her two o’clock bottle and settle her down before I could leave the house for the afternoon, and be back to give her the ten o’clock feed at night, which didn’t leave much time to socialise. I was often allowed time off on Sundays, though, and having recently become a keen churchgoer, decided to go to the evening service at the local Anglican church. St Margaret’s had a happening youth group that met on both Saturday and Sunday evenings, and after one of the services, a young man called Gary invited me to come to it. With a couple of hours to spare before needing to return to Rebecca, I said yes, never dreaming that that simple ‘yes’ would start me on a journey that would take me right across the world and almost cost me my life.
    Youth group was held in an old hall with rows of spring-up seats for film nights, single wooden ones for gathering round in meetings, a loft for having cups of tea or coffee, an area for badminton, and signs that reminded you to leave the rooms in the state in which you found them. We went on outings together, visited elderly people, and helped out at a home for intellectually disabled people, conducting our own services there, singing withthem, and taking out the residents who were able to go shopping or to the park. On Guy