Mother’s first boot, Edward the bear, photos.

Dorothy Moss

My parents, German Jews, met in Haifa in the British ruled Palestine, having both left Germany when things started to get rather unpleasant for Jews under Hitler in the 1930's.

In 1939, bringing my half sister back to England from Haifa for her last year at school, war broke out, so my parents stayed, firstly in London before being sent to Caistor, Lincolnshire.

My father worked as a GP in rural Lincolnshire, joking that the ‘locals’ managed perfectly well with a small Jewish doctor and his strong accent. My parents converted to Christianity as part of their idea that this country had given them sanctuary so they would become as English as they could. Our home was full of love and music, and my mum’s kitchen was always open and welcoming.

I was born in Caistor as was my half niece a year earlier...so I was born an aunt! As a youngster, I would often accompany Dad on his rounds visiting sick patients, usually on farms, so would be taken into the farmyard to see the animals.

I trained as a radiographer, working for 35 years in England, the Caribbean and Holland. I then spent about 15 years in the Heritage sector in Lincolnshire during which time I started volunteering after training as a guide in both the cathedral and the castle which I continue to do for over 25 years. I also lead tours of the Jewish heritage in Lincoln.

My mother never showed interest in her Jewish roots so it was only after she died 20 years ago that I felt able to do so since when I have become involved with the Lincoln Jewish community.

A true Yellowbelly, born and bred, Jew, Christian and a very busy lady!

Carved stones, toddler’s hat, dog lead, map, found natural objects.

Jane Cowan

I was born at home in the heat of July 1970, with my brother eagerly awaiting my arrival. I grew up in Maple Crescent in Basingstoke, in a 1940s house surrounded by trees and children my age.

My father was a scientist at AWE Aldermaston, and many of the dads came home on the same bus each evening. We would run together to meet it when it arrived. Summers were spent drifting in and out of each other’s homes, playing in the street and building dens in the woods behind our houses. I left this community when I was six, but those early years outdoors stayed with me.

I love the smells of trees, moss and woodland - and most importantly I love my children. When I’m carving in my workshop, working with stone and my tools, I feel deeply content. I find the same feeling walking the lanes and mountains of this island, often with my dog, enjoying the things that cost nothing at all.

Medals, swim hat, metronome, music sheet, photo with John Rutter.

Alice McMaster

I was born into a family that loves me. Like mum, I’m the only girl amongst my siblings.

From a young age I’ve been very independent. I’ve always loved music so I joined the cathedral choir about four years ago. Being a chorister is not only about singing, but about community and supporting younger singers as they begin their own journeys.

My favourite pieces by Sir John Rutter are ‘Open Thou My Eyes’ and ‘Shepherd’s Pipe Carol’. I even met him and sang along with him recently. I also sing in my school choir, play the piano and enter singing competitions. In 2025 I sang my first opera piece and I placed third. I’m proud of that.

I swim at county level too and Butterfly is my favourite stroke. I achieved my first county time at thirteen. My family support my love of music, and we often go to operas and musicals together. One day, I hope to become an opera singer and inspire other young people, especially girls, to become choristers too.

Steward sash, university picture, assorted booklets and souvenirs.

Sharon McMaster

I grew up in a house where I was often told to be quiet, even though I always had many questions to ask, and as a child, I felt a little different. I know my mum loved us but she lost her own mum, Alice, when she was young, and I think that shaped her.

I spent my childhood outdoors, making daisy chains in the park and playing with my brothers. I loved school and learning, something that has stayed with me. As a teenager, an organisation called Youth for Christ visited our school, and it was there that I found a place where my questions were welcomed. I chose to follow Christ.

Curiosity still guides me. I love exploring heritage places and discovering hidden corners. I was the first woman in my family to go to university, and today I work in a school helping children learn and ask their own questions.

I also answer questions as a steward at Lincoln Cathedral, bringing together my faith, vocation and curiosity. I encourage my own kids to keep being guided by curiosity.

Virge (the ‘big stick’), jabot and Guild of Vergers, Loki’s collar, keyring.

Joanna Blanchard

I have always felt rooted at the Cathedral. I was born nearby and now live here with my own family. While our mum was in hospital having me, the only thing our dad could cook was tomato soup and fish fingers, so that’s what my sister ate all week!

I grew up in a tickled-pink childhood, full of love and connection to this place. I could see the Cathedral throughout my childhood and I’m still in awe every time I see it now.

I became a verger some years ago and remain one of the few women in the role. Vergers once carried the ‘big stick of authority’, but today we like to say we walk softly and carry a ‘big stick guiding love’. We help prepare the Cathedral for worship and are sometimes jokingly called the “sat navs for clergy.”

Sometimes I wonder if being so rooted here means I’ve missed seeing more of the world. But people from the global church come to worship here, and through them I have learned about places far beyond Lincoln.

Found natural objects.

A collective text

We are part of something bigger than ourselves.

Woven into a world of trees and rivers, of voices and stories, of quiet moments and shared lives. From childhood wanderings outdoors to the paths we walk today, we have felt it; a presence, a calling, a sense of being held.

We are not separate from this world, but part of it. Part of its beauty. Part of its responsibility. Part of its story.

In different ways, we have known the love of God: in nature, in community, in music, in questions, in service.

We are still learning. Still becoming. Still finding our place.And together, we are part of something sacred.

We belong… We connect… We grow… We choose the future.

Journal, Dutch Christmas ornament, mended cross, found objects.

Rowena King

I grew up in Australia, where high summer fell during the long Christmas holidays. I remember the heat, the smell of coconut oil and sunscreen, the hum of cicadas and the feeling that the natural world was holding me close.

As the story goes, I arrived in such a hurry that the doctor stepped out to wash his hands and missed my birth entirely.

Nature was where I felt most at home. I spent whole days outside, running up hills, climbing trees and balancing along fences as if they were tightropes. In those wanderings I felt close to God, to something larger than myself.

I come from a big Dutch–Indonesian–Australian family where the Sunday table was always full: cousins, conversation and food that reflected our mixed heritage: sauerkraut, rendang curry and Nana’s tea and cake.

As the youngest of four, I was both loved and a little invisible in the busy noise of family gatherings; a quiet presence in crowded rooms.

Throughout my life I have felt the steady love of God when I have needed it most.

Through my work and service in the church, I hope to encourage other women to find the place that feels right for them within this community of worship, and to offer a warm welcome to Lincoln Cathedral for everybody, as a place of hope and sanctuary.

Assorted objects and photos.

A collective text

We are not meant to walk alone.

We find ourselves in families, in friendships, in communities that hold us, sometimes imperfectly, but with love. Around kitchen tables, in choirs, in classrooms, in places of worship, we learn how to be with one another.

We are shaped by those who welcome us. And we become the ones who make space for others. We imagine a world where everyone has a place. Where difference is honoured. Where kindness, empathy and understanding guide how we live.

A world where no one stands on the outside.

Assorted items and gluten free wrappers.

A collective text

We carry the future in how we live now.

In how we treat one another. In how we care for the world around us. In what we choose to nurture and what we choose to let go.

We imagine a future where we remember what matters: to be kind, to live gently, to care for the earth as our home.

A world where we make space for one another, where we honour the life we share, and where hope is something we practise, together.

We imagine a future where no one stands on the outside.

Alice McMaster

I hope for a world that is more inclusive for everyone no matter their allergies, race or who they love.

Sharon McMaster

She wants her children to grow up in a world that is more inclusive and welcoming to others. A world where everyone has time for each other and treats each other the same, with no favouritism.

Dorothy Moss

I hope for a world where everyone recognised their responsibility to be kind and decent to one another.

Joanna Blanchard

I hope for a world in which we will all show each other more empathy and understanding.

Jane Cowan

I wish everyone could learn to let go of the perpetual need for more… more stuff, more land, more power, and learn instead to nurture what they already have. I dream of a future in which people respect the planet more and see it as their home, to see themselves as part of nature and respect the life everyone lives and value it.

Rowena King

I hope that my life and service to God in the church encourages other women to find a role that suits them within this family of worship.