Memory is a strange thing. Sometimes a distant memory of
something long forgotten can most suddenly be brought into vivid recollection
as clear as if it had happened the day before. And often it is the simplest of
things which bring it back; a song, a smell, or a story. This week for me it
was a more unusual suspect which brought back a time which I thought I had completely
forgotten; a tin of Vaseline. Having been knocked to the floor, it bounced to a
standstill. As it did, I was transported to the wooden floors of a lounge at All
Nations College where I studied when I joined MAF. It was a dark winters
evening almost six years ago. I was surrounded by the chatter and laughter of
friends. In the centre of the room a dear friend and I sat on the floor, with a
chair behind each of us and a tin of Vaseline between us. Why? Well because we
had just invented floor hockey, a game which would keep us thoroughly entertained
for the next hour or so as our friends watched on bewilderedly.
