My mother worked in the 1925 F Street Club in Washington, where she met Fidel Castro who left little positive impression on her. At a meal among the Irish community, with Catholics and Protestants present, she told how one friend thwarted a potential row with some excellent diplomacy! An old verse of mine being republished.
“Good food, Good meat
Good God, lets eat”
Words uttered as grace
When friends of other faiths did meet
And one, being a bigot
Insisted on saying Grace
That would be offensive to those of other faiths
Who ate with them at that place.
And so, joking, the grace he gave
Before he and his friends ate
It was a Grace of his own
That belonged to neither faith.
God came to him in inspiration
When a bigot his savvy did test
And never a truer prayer was prayed
Never a truer word said in jest.