I loved the Harvest Festival at primary school. It was the only assembly I understood. Giving thanks for the harvest. Made sense to me. The rest of the year crammed into the hall day in day out meant nothing. Well. I guess Christmas was exciting, but I was a child.

‘We plough the fields and scatter, the good seed on the land‘. What a joyous song to sing at the start of the day.

In the centre of the stage would stand a huge loaf of bread shaped into a sheaf of wheat made by a local baker. I loved to see that. It was surrounded by the open shoe boxes we had filled at home with jars and tins and made to look pretty. Later, they would be taken out into the community for the elder folk.

Yes, even at an early age, I understood gratitude.