Light in the Darkness - Shine, Jesus, Shine

I was born into a Christian family. It was a mix of Catholic and Protestant and some had a stronger faith than others. I was baptised in a Church of England church, but my Sunday Schools were always Methodist. One was a strict Wesleyan Chapel that could not accept monetary gifts from my father, a publican. I have always had my faith, never faltering in my darkest of days, and believe me, I have pulled through some dark, hard times. I believe in ‘each to their own’, respectful of family and friends beliefs, non-beliefs, thoughts and preferences. If I have a grandchild sleeping over, they always get a ‘night-night, God bless’.

My christening gifts included a C of E Book of Common Prayer and a bible with my initials on. These were from both sets of grandparents, I think. As a child, I was fascinated by the picture inside the prayer book, ‘The Light of the World’ by Holman Hunt, and found the person, who I later learnt to be Jesus, a bit scary looking. The light in my darkness. 

Our recent stay in Dumfries and Galloway got off to a confusing start when there was a mix up concerning our accommodation. We’ve stayed in the same lodge so many times that we consider it to be our own. It took a few moments to accept that it was occupied. All turned out fine. There are only six lodges spaced between trees and shrubs, all very private and all much the same. We soon found ours. It was only tea-time, around five, but dark already. This is a recognised Dark Sky area and glancing up, I couldn’t believe my eyes, especially my peculiar eyes. The sky was full of more stars than I’d ever seen, sparkling brightly, some tiny, some big, millions of them. We stopped unloading the car and switched off the lights and torches we were using, and just stood, staring at the sky. I could actually see them, my eyes, with problem vision giving me a struggle to focus all the time, could process this wonderful night sky. The most amazing lights in the darkness.

On Christmas Eve, my daughter and I took her three children to the Christingle service at our local church. The children had been before to various services and to Christingle last year, so knew to sit quietly. After a while they were a bit fidgety. Matilda had seen a classmate across the aisle and wanted to sit with her, but was too shy to move. The boys, who had been sitting together, now had their mother between them and the threat of no Christingle orange. There was respite in the chance to sing as a well-known hymn began. As we stood, I heard one of the boys say ‘It’s Nanna’s God bless you song’ as I popped Matilda to her friend, with a ‘thank you’ to her Nanna who is a friend of mine. Shine, Jesus, Shine. I used to choose it a lot when my children were small and part of my Sunday School class. With all the children joining in the chorus, it must be a popular hymn from school assembly. A little later a loud chorus of ‘Sing Hosanna’ was raising the roof. At the end, all lights were switched off and flames from all the Christingles flickered around the church as everyone sang Away in a Manger. Beautiful lights.

A light in the darkness, a light at the end of a tunnel, a flicker of hope, that cloud with the silver lining. There is always hope for everyone, faith or not.

No poem today, sorry, but thanks for reading. A Happy New Year to everyone. Pam x

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Answers - Who Am I?

Over the last few evenings I’ve been searching my ancestry for possible answers. I was able to confirm to another family member that the details he’d passed on to me of a young man killed in action during WW1 was one of us, but I couldn’t leave it there. My ancestors had massive families and there are many brothers and cousins likely to have been involved in the conflict.  It is on-going and taking me in many directions, enough to give me a headache and a fear of forgetting what my hand-written notes mean. And, to keep me on my toes, eldest sons are often named after their father.

With the use of websites I started to research my family tree in 2004 when I was housebound, recovering from illness.  It gave me something to focus on and took me on a fascinating journey of discovery. I’ve learnt a lot about my background through the lives of past generations.  I wish such information could have been so readily available thirty-plus years ago when my father was alive.

Dad knew very little about his mother’s family. My Nanna Hetty was orphaned when she was a baby. I’m still unsure if she was formally adopted or just taken in by the people who raised her, it was 1896, but I have found details of her birth family and obtained marriage and death certificates for her parents. I have the answers my father always wanted.

Up to now I’ve been able to track my ancestry back to around 1810, some of which is backed up with birth, marriage and death certificates and information from census records. I know who they were, where they lived, what they did and how they died. If only I could find out what their personalities were like or what made them tick.

 

I found this poem by Sandra Osborne:

Answers

How many souls
Have come and gone
Before me?

How many had
The same questions?
How many
Found the answers?

And if they found them,
Then why does my soul
Long for the reasons
For their deaths,
For their lives,
The reasons for mine.

And if I should find them,
Will I have the wisdom
To know them as answers,
Or will I lack the understanding,
And see them as questions.

 

 

Thanks for reading, Pam x

 

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Appetence - We'll Get What We Need

“You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you’ll find you get what you need…”
from the Jagger & Richards composition, You Can’t Always Get What You Want.

My late father used to say something like that, long before the Rolling Stones immortalised the words of wisdom in their song. He had lots of sayings and witticisms about things that belonged to his generation and his upbringing. He was an original Rusholme Ruffian, very grounded and proud of his roots. He became an engineer and lived in Northenden at the time of meeting my mother and marrying into a family of licencees. He soon joined in. His first pub was in Manchester city centre. He was ambitious enough to want a pub on Blackpool Promenade and made it his goal. Six years later he’d done it and stayed for the rest of his working life. He had focus, desire and appetence. He’d certainly found his niche with his change of career. I’m proud to display his Licensed Trade Diploma on my wall, with photos of most of his pubs.

In my twenties, I wanted lots of children. It was a real yearning to have a large, close family. Obviously, it wasn’t meant to be and how I would have possibly found time to fulfil my ambition to write something meaningful, I can’t imagine. My two arrived in my mid to late thirties. I worked in a school with the under 8s.There was little time to write anything more than a birthday card. Things have improved, slightly.

For a few years, it’s been my wish to relocate to Dumfries and Galloway when we retire. I have to work more years than I wanted because I won’t get a state pension when I expected to. Yes, I’m one of those WASPI women, affected by the government moving the pensionable age criteria at short notice. I’ve just come home from a couple of weeks indulging my longing for Scotland, a holiday on the Isle of Barra then time in D&G. I hope it keeps me going until later in the year.

My family is growing. A fourth grandchild is on the way. I’m a very hands-on Nanna, so in a roundabout way I’m getting something I always wanted.

I thank my dad for genetically passing on his patience and tenacity, for always encouraging my writing and for showing me the difference between what we want and what we need.

The Rolling Stones have been doing a UK tour while I’ve been away. It would have been great to see them. Instead, I’ll play their music and look forward to catching up with a friend who went to one of their London concerts.

The photo is of our holiday cottage in Barra.

The poem is one of mine from long ago, but it means the same.

 

The Lowlands

 

Take me back to the coast of Ballentrae,

And a breath-taking view of Ailsa Craig

Half hidden by mist on a rainy day,

Grey shape against dull sky, outline so vague.

It’s restful at Robert Burns place of birth

And Autumn quiet on the Ayrshire beach.

A cloudy sunset calms the Solway Firth

And all of the Lowlands is in my reach.

I close my eyes and think of Galloway,

Afternoon tea at a street side café

A chilly breeze coming over the bay

At the end of another perfect day. 

I will return to this place of my dreams,

My love of the forest and rolling hills

Where all is real and just as it seems,

In peace and tranquillity, my soul stills.

 

PMW 2013

 

 
Thanks for reading, Pam x 

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