Michael Williams (“God of our ancestors”, 29 March) has had the exact opposite ­experience to me. Except – although brought up in a Jewish household, after my bar mitzvah I moved away from the Judaic observances. (I believe the equivalent is common to many 14-year-olds.) By the time I was 18, I had decided that maybe there was a supreme being after all – and that the basic tenets of belief were common knowledge … however they were wrapped up. Later, quite a while after an unexpected divorce, I became interested in a fascinating young woman, who was Catholic by choice. She was helping out with a week’s holiday for less advantaged women. I wanted to find out what this place was that meant so much to her, and I went along for the weekend. There, at th