David had been the meeter and greeter at church forever when I arrived in September 2000, very much the new girl. As I sought to bring new systems into place and recruit more volunteers to share the welcoming on Sunday mornings, he just quietly carried on - as he always had. A handshake, a reassuring hand on the shoulder or a hug, as required or appropriate. He had such a wonderful, gentle manner about him which just put people at their ease immediately. As my confidence grew and I began to exert a little more pressure for change, he just quietly carried on - as he always had! I introduced new rules which he quietly ignored. I asked him not to alter the settings on the boiler, which he quietly ignored. He would glance over his shoulder as he unlocked the door to go upstairs, the hint of an enigmatic smile around his mouth and a glint in his eye as he set off for the boiler. When it wasn’t his turn be on the rota, he just quietly carried on. I stopped putting him on the rota as I knew he would be there anyway! Over the sixteen or so years that we ‘worked the door’ together, we became pals and would laugh as we desperately tried to help each other remember someone’s name or keep a straight face when we were in danger of making a terrible faux pas. I’ve never met anyone with such a memory for names and faces! I’m so glad that I had the chance to learn from a master and I will feel the loss of my pal, especially when I’m ‘on the door’ again. Rest in peace David.