A Quiet Haven Of Peace.

A Memory of Davenham.

I lived next door to Davenham Church, and one summer's day, when I was about 7, I went for a walk around the churchyard. Hearing a rustling noise on the ground, I crouched down, parted some long grass, and found a baby hedgehog. Now my sister and I had had a tortoise, and he had died during the winter, so I thought the hedgehog would make a great pet.

Running back home, I found a wooden box and my dad's gardening gloves and scurried off back to the churchyard. To my dismay the hedgehog had gone, but some careful detective work soon located him. Donning the overlarge gloves, I carefully picked the hedgehog up, placed him in the box and triumphantly returned to the house. It wasn't long before mum came and found me and explained that hedgehogs couldn't be kept as pets. My disappointment was great - but mum said, "His mother will be looking for him." With that, I returned the hedgehog to the churchyard and watched as he scurried off into the undergrowth.

I returned to the churchyard many times - but I never saw him again. What a wise hedgehog he was!