Woman November 28 1959 Page 27

Your marriage is not like this
continued on page 29

‘Helping others is infinitely rewarding, and the best possible way to dispel any sadness of our own’

Cure for the blues by ANNA NEAGLE

I HAD been for a stroll through Hyde Park with a friend of mine and we were sitting peacefully on a bench near one of the gates, when I was startled to feel her touch my arm and to hear her remark dryly:

 I've been saying the most interesting things and you haven't listened to a word I've said: Stop day-dreaming! "

 I apologized hurriedly. But it was a bit difficult to explain that I hadn't really been day-dreaming, that I'd only been playing a favourite game of mine, trying to guess the stories behind all the different faces passing us by.

 It's an absorbing game. You can play it in buses, on trains, in restaurants and theatres. All you need is a little imagination. And yet it's more than a game. You could almost call it a spiritual exercise, for I know of no quicker, no better, way to forget yourself and all your worries than to think about somebody else for five minutes.

 It took me a little time to learn this truth, but I'll never forget the night it was brought home to me.

A lesson learned

  I was young, and I was dissatisfied with myself, "with my work. Things had never seemed blacker. '

 And when a member of the cast offered to drive me home from the theatre I didn't at first notice the way we were going. When I did come up out of my gloomy thoughts I saw that he was pulling the car up by the side of the Thames Embankment.

He opened his window. "Look over there," he said.

I stared out. It was very late and very quiet. For a moment I couldn't think what it was he wanted me to look at. And then I saw them. Huddled on the benches by the river wall, some covering themselves for warmth with old newspaper, others talking dejectedly in low tones, there were the down and outs, the unwanted victims of the great city.

Somebody worse off

 "Whenever I start getting a bit too sorry for myself, I come down here," my companion said.

 "It puts things into perspective for me. Whatever troubles I have, there's always somebody worse off."

 I was very thoughtful as we drove away from the Embankment. But this time I wasn't thinking about myself. I was thinking about all those poor people whom a combination of circumstances had reduced to sleeping out on the city pavements.

 That incident impressed me deeply. It taught me that as long as there are others who need help, to waste time worrying about oneself is futile and wrong.

 So many people need help, and so often it is not simply money that is needed but time. The Red Cross, who need older women to help in the training of their young cadets, the W.V.S, the youth clubs, the refugee organizations are all crying out for volunteers willing to give up their time to others.

 A couple of hours spent reading to an old person, or serving tea in a club, doesn't take very much effort, but how welcome, how rewarding it can be.

 I think if people knew how welcome and how rewarding, even the shyest and most diffident would find the strength to take that first step towards offering their help. And would discover for themselves that to help other people is the best possible way to dispel your own disappointment or loneliness.

Next Week

Anna writes about the secret of living