Thomas Taherne was an Anglican clergyman and writer. He leaves behind a rich literary legacy and I consider him to be very enlightened. Learn more by following the link.
Inspired by Thomas Traherne, the value of things was considered at last Sunday's Unitarian service at Harris Manchester Chapel, Oxford. I like to think of myself as a minimalist. Being is more important than having. But when asked to consider an object of value, I immediately thought of my red eyed caterpillar.
Here is it's story.
My dad, Bob Baker, was born in Manchester in 1921, the last of five children. He was a man of high principles and strong beliefs. He volunteered for the Bomber Command in 1941. This was a dangerous outfit. Half of the airmen lost their lives and 1 in 10, Bob included, was taken as a POW. Shot down over Holland in the summer of 1943, he bailed out, opened his parachute, landed in a green house and knocked out his two front teeth. He was then sheltered by the local bobby, a Mr Deij, until the Germans came for him. Mr Deij was mortified about handing Bob over but not doing so would have been certain death for his family. A day or so later Bob's parents received a letter from the Padre in the RAF base informing them with deep regret that Bob's fate was unknown. They did not know whether he was alive or dead for weeks, maybe months.
In fact, Bob spent the next two years in Stalag Luft III. My cousin told me he came home a changed man.
In common with most Northern men of his generation, Dad was not normally an emotional man. However, on Remembrance Day he always watched the service on TV with silent tears running down his cheeks. Otherwise he spoke little of the war and I never asked. As a child in the late 50s and 60s the war did not interest me. Later, as an angry young woman and a pacifist, I was conflicted about WW2 and Bomber Command. But, sometimes, I would look at Dad, as he sat in his usual chair in the corner of the room and imagine him falling from high in the sky and feel completely in awe of him whilst hardly being able to comprehend what it must have been like.
Dad died suddenly in 1989 and now I deeply regret never asking more about his wartime experience.
I found the caterpillar lapel pin in 2014 after my lovely Mum had died and I was sorting out all her things. I had no idea what it was but discovered that to own a red or green eyed caterpillar you need to be a member of The Caterpillar Club. This is an informal association of people of all nationalities who have successfully used a parachute to bail out of an aircraft which has been disabled. Caterpillars with red eyes are for those bailing out over enemy territory and green eyed ones are for those bailing out over friendly territory. The Caterpillar is symbolic of the silk worm, which lets itself descend gently to earth from a height by its spin.
"Life depends on a silken thread" is the Caterpillar Club's motto. Bob Baker acquired forty six years of extra life thanks to a silken thread and I owe my very existence to it. You can just make out his name and rank on the back.
My caterpillar lapel badge is of huge importance to me as it brings me closer to a barely known past, as well as my parents love, and reflecting on all this I feel more able to love and treasure those around me and to be thankful for my life.
I concentrate on my caterpillar sometimes during meditation. I can block out all the random less helpful thoughts that swirl around. They are as dull as a tangle of earthworms in comparison with my caterpillar.
In a house fire, is there an object you would save? Why?
Thanks to Rev. Peter Hewis and the congragation for their inspiration.
Bob and I during in 1983.
