The Waiting Room

By Paul Bishop of Tracheia

This book is unique in modern christian spiritual literature. Inspired in its form by the Canterbury Tales of the great Geoffrey Chaucer, it consists of six stories told by the passengers in the 'Waiting Room'of a small country railway station. As the German aerpolanes flew overhead, dropping bombs and destroying the London docks, one winter night in 1940, a small group of travellers experinced an unforeseen vigil with an extraordinary conclusion. This book could be seen as a Symphony in words, themes coming and going, and only at the last lines do they all come together, and the reason of the whole is discovered. For those who search for a spiritual life in this world, which is itself the Waitng 'Room' for all of us, this book is a 'must.'

Bishop Paul was born in 1942 in the village of Hollesley, on the Suffolk coast. He studied at the St.Sergius Orthodox Theological Institute in Paris. Ordained a priest in 1967, he served in Russian 'émigré' parishes in the Paris suburbs. In 1991 he was elected by the Holy Synod of the Oecumenical Patriachate Bishop with the title of the ancient Byzantine city of Tracheia. Having served for ten years as a Bishop in the South of France, he retired to live a secluded life. He has presently published thirteen volumes of spiritual poetry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Legend Press
• Release date: Dec 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781785075384

Book preview

THE WAITING ROOM

Paul, Bishop of Tracheia

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Introduction

When Hitler thought that Britain could be easily destroyed,

That his victory was certain and would soon be much enjoyed,

He gave this wicked order: London town be set on fire!

To raze that noble city, was his wish and his desire.

In December nineteen forty, German squadrons flew from France

Across the English Channel in an evil ballet dance,

Their bombs, destroying everything, caused death and bitter pain,

Pouring down on London as if drops of poison rain.

Firemen most courageously fought walls of scorching flames,

Many people died, and now forgotten are their names!

London never lost her nerve, but bravely tried to save,

Her children from the sea of fire, as wave broke after wave.

Every night a crowd of sleeping people could be found,

Hidden on the platforms of the London Underground.

Travel at that time was truly difficult indeed,

The scheduled times of trains were often difficult to read,

Announced at every station in chalk upon a board,

They were often incoherent, but nobody could afford

To miss a train which maybe was the last for several days,

People helped each other then, in many different ways!

Chapter 1

Now in a little country town, Saint Merry-on-the-Hill,

Far away from London noise, where life was calm and still,

There was an ancient railway station. Many years ago

Trains would always stop there, for then travelling was slow.

But since the 1930s things had modernised a lot,

The company debated, should their trains halt here or not?

The directors then decided that they’d not decide at all,

Despite the fact Saint Merry as a town was rather small,

They argued and they quarrelled, but at last they all agreed,

A decision would be taken, when a profit guaranteed.

Then war broke out, the station was important, on the line

A train would take for London, often posted was a sign:

Buy your ticket passenger, then please sit down and wait!

Unfortunately trains today are running rather late!

One evening, in December, when the blitz had well begun,

The station master saw a worried mother with her son,

Running t’ward the station, with a suitcase in her hand,

Looking very anxious, as we all can understand.

"I must go to London, for our house has been destroyed

Where it used to stand, I‘m told there’s now a gaping void!"

The station master answered, "That entirely will depend

Upon the different presents Adolf Hitler means to send,

He’s given us some crackers, he’s destroying London town,

God knows how many houses he’s been busy knocking down,

But soon we shall defeat him as our Winston1 has declared,

Of his tanks and shells the English never will be scared!"

"Ernie, dear, we’ll have to wait, I hope you’re not too cold,

The trains are few and very full, and slow, so I am told,

We’ll go into the waiting room, and there we’ll have to sit,"

Mrs. Highborn said, I’ve got some wool, so I can knit.

There was an ancient picture that was hanging on the wall,

Where it came from nobody was able to recall,

The varnish cracked, it had become impossible to see,

If it was a portrait, then whose portrait it might be.

"Now sit down beside me, and don’t fidget Ernie dear,

It seems we’re going to sleep here, but don’t fear, for I am near!"

The boy clung to his mother as the planes flew overhead,

Which they knew responsible for many London dead.

Next a soldier entered, brow and hair were drenched in sweat,

He certainly was anxious, and he seemed to be upset,

For he’d received a telegram with orders he must be

In regimental barracks the next day at half past three.

The station master told him, "I have no idea at all

When the trains will run again, I’m waiting for a call

By telephone from London, which will tell me when a train

Will stop here at our station, and life be normal once again!"

I must be there tomorrow, the young soldier then announced,

There was a hint of anguish in the words that he pronounced.

We’ll do our best, the station master said, "we can’t do more,

The trains can only run when all the rails are safe and sure!

Our sergeants and our colonels know when Hitler’s on a raid,

The rules and regulations must be perfectly obeyed."

The soldier, Captain Stillalive, then sat down near the fire,

He’d come to see his family, and had a real desire,

Whenever be the hour, and whatever be the weather,

To fight the evil Nazis, and destroy them altogether!

The station master said, "Indeed I would not be surprised

To hear the railway timetable corrected and revised,

I beg you, sir, be patient, and may God Himself defend

Our noble King and country who upon Him now depend!"

In the evening silence, drones of aeroplanes were heard,

Another strike