A warm welcome to the newest members of our congregation, Ali Mustapha-anuvver and his husband Ali Mustapha-anuvver-relative-somewhere. May they live in peace amongst us, and instil us with the wisdom of their ancient ways.
Our little congregation has finally been blessed with the child refugee that we had pleaded with the authorities to be allowed to care for – a bony 16 stone boy with a full upper lip of hair. As we crowded round his cot to get a better look at him, he curled his little fingers round my dog collar and uttered his first words in English.
‘Succour! Succour!’ he cried.
Verily shall this congregation succour him unto old age.
We had been told by that excellent charity which has worked tirelessly amongst the mud of Calais to bring this bundle of joy to us that little Ali the 3rd, as we have named him, was at risk of being sex trafficked had we not taken him in. It is unbearable to think of him with no more protection than a feather boa on the pole dancing circuit, or worse, taking the place of the charming Katya in the third cubicle from the left at the ‘VIP Gentlemen’s Club’.
The Misses Dorothy and her friends have spent the night unpicking the 33 matinee jackets that you knitted for his arrival in this cold and inclement land, and have already fashioned a bootee for his left foot – more wool is urgently needed if we are to produce a right foot. Indeed the cot blanket has proved to be some three foot short – so volunteers to the crochet needle ladies please!
We have managed to secure an appointment for little Ali to see a Doctor on January 31st 2017 – we can only pray that the privations of French medical care has not wrought too much damage to his frail body.
It is hard to imagine the terrors that the little shaver has endured, nor to understand the mentality of his so-called ‘family’ in England, who have left him alone in that terrible camp all this time, waiting for our Christian community to rescue him.
Our venerable leader of this faith tells us that local councils have found 3,000 places of safety, equipped with warm blankets, good food, and security, so can accommodate another 2,999 children such as Ali. A loud cheer went up from the huddled ranks of the homeless under railway arches and the women and children currently in seaside hostels as they shelter from their menfolk. Who knew that the authorities could move so quickly and efficiently?
I can hear little Ali as I write, gurgling contentedly in his cot, so proud of his one word of English.
‘Succour, succour’, he cackles.
May the religion of peace be upon you children, all donations gratefully received.
The right Reverend Holy Rowan Berry-Stoopid, of the parish of St Raccoon.