Recently, I picked up a book published in Britain in 1979. As I leafed through its stained pages, I discovered a little inscription: ‘To Eileen, with love from Beryl. God bless you always!’ In the late 1970s, I spent my summers in England with my grandmother. In the district where we stayed, Beryl and Eileen were common names. They were church-goers who wore plaid skirts, woolen cardigans and black patent shoes. More importantly, they were the backbone of a community that still believed in old fashioned decencies.