Foundlings

All the children made it home for Easter. 

Exams are afoot, especially finals for Carenza, so we had a quiet time. 

Except for Saturday when we visited London.

First, Nigel, Pascoe, Perran and I visited the Foundling Museum.  Carenza would join us in the afternoon, having done some work.

At the Foundling Hospital, it was heart-breaking to see the tokens which desperate mothers had left with the illegitimate babies whom they had no means to raise – a scrap of embroidered ribbon, a tiny ring.  They hoped that their child would survive and seek them out again one day.

Handel had been a great patron of the Hospital and on the top floor were some leather arm chairs which played his music through speakers  at ear-height.

That was when I realised how much the previous term had tired me and how much I needed a rest.

I found it easy to sit down, hard to get up. I listened to the music and thought about the little foundlings.

After the sadness of the Foundling Museum, we were to meet up with Carenza  for the zingy Botticelli exhibition at the bustling V&A.

Even after only a few hours of separation, my heart gave a little jump when I saw her face through the crowd.  All five of us entered the exhibition chatting together. 

Time to count my blessings.