I did not know Mark Lewis well, and meant to hear more of his stories, but there were always other things happening. However, he once kindly came into St Brigid's guildyard and told us the tale of Tam Lin. It's one I've heard sung and told and read to myself and read aloud and seen pictures, and he did it beautifully. I cannot quantify exactly how he worded it to make it better, but I do remember him saying "Now, in England, we call her Janet, but I think that is just what we English call her...what is her name in Scotland." Some of us knew that it was Seonaid (pronounced, more or less, SHONnitch) and he said "Thank you" sweetly and humbly; it is rare that anyone admits that they don't know something, especially when they are in charge, I respected it so much. He listened carefully to the pronunciation and called the heroine Seonaid throughout. I can close my eyes and remember the feeling of and hear all of our hands pounding on the stage to bring the horses trying to drag Tam Lin from Seonaid's arms, and the excitement of hearing a story told well. I can write, I can read aloud, I can even tell a quick anecdote, but Mark Lewis had a rare gift. This world is a bit less magical for his loss.