One thing I loved about church in Scotland was the priest's house. It sat atop a hill and had huge presence in the village. Most of us lived in tiny council houses that bulged at the seems with children. This was all class.

Though we never thought, or considered we were poor, that fact that we were.

Like your dad Roger, my dad had a small business in the village. Years after we'd grown up, some of our peers told us they thought we were rich! Trust me, we lived from one week to the next, often struggling because Dad allowed people to pay him when and if they had the money. So we struggled to have money for food.

One day Dad went home for lunch and on his return he found his shop burnt to the ground. He'd just bought new machinery which he hadn't insured. He thought he'd do it all in May with the annual insurance on the shop. . It was then March.

So there he was, in debt, lost his business, with five children, and people in the village who owed him money crossed to the other side of the road so as not to have to face Dad head on.

What riled me, was that, for all the money my dad had given to the church not one person from the church or the priest, offered to help.

NOT EVEN MY GRANPARENTS WHO PAVED A PATH TO HEAVEN by going to daily Mass.

I wasn't very old at the time, but I was wise, and I recognised the hypocrisy of it all.

And the lovely priest's house that I spoke of? Well it was a mile from the actual church...much too far away, so a brand new one was built for one priest and a 'housekeeper', three times the size of our little home that housed 7 people.

Yes religion is a great money spinner, even in a little church in Scotland.