Last Sunday, I hosted our family get-together and cooked a special roast.

There were sixteen relatives in all; and at one-o'clock I ushered everyone

into the dining room together to serve the lunch.

Eventually everyone was seated around the big table as I served the food.

When my six-year-old nephew Johnny received his plate, he started eating straight away.

"Johnny, wait till we've said our prayer," his mum (my sister) reminded him.

"No, I don't have to, mum," the little boy replied.

"Of course you do," his mother insisted. " We always say a prayer before

eating at our house. It's called 'The Grace' - you know that."

"Oh yes, that's at our house," Johnny explained politely.

" BUT this is Sally's house and she really knows how to cook."

A momentary uneasy silence reigned, so my Dad hastily passed the gravy round.