Candles in the Darkness

In my traditional melodramatic way, I've been musing upon what I might leave behind should I exit stage left this curious drama called life.

I know I'm relatively young and ought not be thinking such thoughts, but I suppose it's a consequence of how the year has started - with the loss of more family, and in this case the closest of the close.

It struck particularly hard on Thursday evening, when I had the privilege of being invited to St James School in Exeter, to hand out the awards at the prizegiving ceremony for the youngsters who'll be leaving this year.

It was an absolute delight to be there.  There was so much pride in achievement from students and their parents alike.  I got sufficiently bound up in the atmosphere that I was caught out when I was asked up to the front to speak, and had to stir myself and shift.

The speech was easy enough to give, because it was all true and even more - entirely from the heart. 

I won't bore you with the details (the youngsters suffering it is quite enough to inflict upon the human race), but it was about the importance of working hard and the wonderful places that endeavour can take you. 

I was so pleased that quite a few students came up for a chat afterwards, said my words had made sense (that was plenty enough of a relief), and had even given them something along the lines of... wait for it...

... inspiration.

And that was hugely warming and more.  In fact, the glow is still with me now, two days on, and I hope it remains.  It's a fine friend.

In conclusion, that I will happily take.  I've said many times before that it's my education work which means the most to me of all I do. 

So, if I can raise a few aspirations, lighten some lives, nudge some youngsters onto fulfilling paths they may not otherwise have known, it'll do me fine as the legacy thing.

For what finer cause is there?