A Flowered Cross
At the start of the holidays, I went to Hexham Abbey on Sunday morning to meet Sheila, who is in charge of the flowers. It’s a very important, and at times stressful, part of Abbey life, the flowers. Especially in midsummer, when wedding season is in full swing, and there is sometimes more than one wedding per week, sometimes more than one wedding per day.
Sheila is a very smart, friendly woman, who moved to the area from down South 30 years ago. I can tell that she is a bit nervous and sense that she thinks that I want to interview her in quite a formal way. Obviously, I don’t. I want to know about her life and her faith and how these overlap in the work she does in the Abbey but I don’t want to dive straight in, so we start with wedding season.
The week preceding our meeting had been a busy one for Sheila, with a number of weddings taking place, including the nuptials of Lord Allendale’s niece. It had been a suitably grand and momentous affair and Sheila and her team had done the flowers for it. (Northumberland is still quite a feudal society in many respects, Lord Allendale and the Duke of Northumberland owning most of the county between them.)
Sheila explains that her team of 10 ladies does the flowers for most of the Abbey’s weddings. Sometimes the bride wants to bring in an outside florist (when I ask whether this is because some brides want very fashionable arrangements, she slightly raises one eyebrow and says ‘yes’) but most brides pick their colour scheme and arrangements at a special ‘Wedding Afternoon Tea’ that the Abbey organises in February each year. All the couples marrying that year are invited and it runs on a carousel system, with couples choosing the flowers, music and order of service from the various options the Abbey offers. Sheila shows couples photos of possible arrangements and colour schemes on her iPad and most are very happy to trust Sheila with the flowers. Have there been any Bridezillas? Yes, but it’s perhaps best not to dwell on them…
Every week, Sheila and the 10 other volunteers tend the Abbey’s flowers, making sure that the displays are fresh. Sometimes this means re-doing a whole display but more often than not it’s a rolling programme of repairs and refreshment. Sheila often travels 40 miles south to buy flowers from the wholesalers but sometimes this just isn’t possible and she as to go to Hexham Tesco’s, which she doesn’t like doing. I ask if it’s like a full time job and Sheila says it can be. Was she a florist before retirement? No, but her mother was. How did she come to be in charge of Hexham Abbey’s flowers? The previous incumbent asked her if she would do a display quite out-of-the-blue, and Sheila did. Then the previous lady immediately retired and Sheila was in charge. Looking back, it was probably a little test, Sheila says, and chuckles. She still has no idea why her predecessor chose her.
Then I ask the question that I’ve been building up to. I’m scared that she’s going to look at me blankly, or even worse, laugh. Is her job as chief flower arranger a ministry of sorts? Sheila immediately says yes. ‘Doing something you’re good at in order to help the Abbey’ is how she describes it to Melinda, who is also sitting with us and asks what this means. She loves arranging the flowers and really loves doing flower workshops. The Abbey has a thriving calendar of extra-curricular activities and Sheila once researched the symbolism of church flowers and then ran an activity afternoon, where people came to learn about the significance of the flowers in the displays. At the end of the workshop, everyone chose their favourite flower and placed it in a crucifix shape. Sheila shows us the photo of it. It’s very beautiful. ‘No design to it at all, it just turned out this way’ Sheila says, almost in wonderment.
By now Sheila has relaxed and without any questions from me, she opens up about her life. Her story is not mine to tell, especially in a public blog, but she is a remarkable woman who has survived tragedy and surprises, including the loss of a son, with grace and faith.
One thing she says really sticks with me. At her lowest, Sheila says that she felt she couldn’t go to the Abbey services: ‘I just couldn’t say the prayers, the words’. She told her friends in the church how she was feeling. One said ‘Come to the service. You don’t have to say anything. We will say the words for you.’ Sheila says that this was immensely significant to her and showed her how strongly she was held and protected by those around her in the Abbey.
We say goodbye. Sheila is off to cook a chicken dinner for all 6 of her grandchildren, including the grandson who is a living reminder of her son, and another grandson who was born last week. My heart swells for her as I watch her leave. She is full of such quiet grace. A couple of weeks later, she emails me a picture of the floral cross that she is so proud of. There was no plan to it, no formal arrangement. But it’s her favourite.
Sheila talking, by Melinda McGarry
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