I should add that this is not a goddaughter-godmother relationship where I withhold things from the child’s parents. That would be improper and disrespectful, and it would undermine the family relationship. If there’s things they need to know, I tell them. My goddaughter knows this and is OK with it. Even so, there are moments when a call to a godmother at 3am is clearly the preferable option to waking the mother.
This happened one night (or morning) during September, and it reinforced my belief that the practicalities of life are sometimes far more important than any faith-based instruction.
The call roused me from sleep only slowly but when I saw the name on the screen I snapped wide awake. A call from her at this hour meant something serious. But it turned out to be only a flat tyre, in the middle of nowhere, on the way home from a party (she was completely sober). Change the wheel, I helpfully offered, drive home, and we’ll sort out everything else in the morning. That’s when she told me she didn’t know how to change a wheel. No-one had shown her how.