大象传媒

Sunday school was the rule of the day.In our seersucker dresses,panama hat and paten shoes would parade to the chapel and once there could be chosen to sing a hymn.Although I was nervous,I would oblige and to this day I like to sing (one of my hobbies is entertaining the elderly)The doctrine was simple and enjoyable and was the grounding for my faith now! Sunday lunch was the next on the agenda and of course was gratefully received after our mealtime prayer.The rest of the day taken up with reading ,playing board games,having tea and going for one of our famous walks.On these nights it was a pleasure to jump into bed.
The countryside appealed to me greatly and still does. Iloved the openness,the freshness,the tranquility,the aroma and the sunny days(especially the sunny days)Those days when Mrs Cook and Ruby would go out for the day and would have to let ourselves in from school by retrieving the key from under the door mat.A dazzling white cloth would be covering the finely chopped egg sandwiches and sweetmeats on the table.These were devoured ravenously.Always on lovely hot ,summery days it seems.Those days radiate in my mind for obvious reasons. After having our fill we would close the door very carefully(as instructed) and put the key safely back under the mat.
As time wore on we became part of the villageand of course this was our home and nothing could disturb our peace.That was not to be! One weekend my Father came to see us and hardly knowing him found this quite a novelty.I recall jumping on to his lap and as he had his foot resting on the rung of the chair it broke off completely.I was promptly chastised and there was embarrassment all round.We both finally had to go to bed and we found ourselves giggling.My Father scolded us in a rather stern voice. Silence reigned!
The following year we received a letter to say that my Father had passed away at the age of forty four years,due to peritonitus.Apparently he had been poorly for sometime and had developed a T.B. ulcer,caused possibly from glass blowing.Eventually the ulcer burst and poison set in.
My Mother was now a widow left to cope with life as it was,with two children at home and four evacuated in different parts of the country.
Life went on in our village as usual with the exception of an incendary dropping in one of the fields creating a huge crater.This was big news amongst the locals.Quite sensational-Then another day a German plane crashed quite nearby,leaving shrapnel scattered on window ledges.A trickle of excitement ran through our veins.After all we were quite remote from such things.So this was something!
In five years I had not seen my Mother and as far I was concerned we were here to stay with our family whom we had grown to love.We were one happy union,warm and content in a comfortable environment.This was the life I knew and was familiar with.
"War`s over!" These words did not mean very much to me,as we were happy as we were and what more could we want?
Realization began to dawn when Mrs Cook said we had to go home soon.Home! This was my home! "I`m staying here,I`m not going back!"
After many tantrums and tears the day came for us to return to God knows where? I wiil never forget that day! A mixture of tears,a stiff upper lip,nausea and reassurances of meeting again overwhelmed us.The feelings were indescribable(and a destructive effect later)
The train chugged into the little peaceful station.Our guardians were there to see us off. We were gently hoisted onto the train.I remember I was holding back the tears because I did not want them to get upset(I guess they were doing the same).After the kisses and fretful goodbyes,the train pulled out of the station.With our arms extended as far as possible we waved continuosly until they were mere specks in the distance and then no more.I felt such an ache in my heart and so I fell into a kind of hurting,numb silence but also sensing the sadness we had left behind.
The duration of the journey I cannot recall.I think I must have severed the life around me to deaden the hurt.
I vaguely remember the busy,smokey and noisy din of Paddington station;being met by a small lady with her hair tied back and rather nervous.Was this my Mother?I thought.She then greeted me with a kiss.I treated this action with a cool air.We then boarded the underground train which I was terrified of.The next thing I remember was approaching some very tall,dismal buildings and a door being opened by two quizzical young girls.One wore metal framed glasses and the other with a round face framed by a short fringe.I assumed one was my sister but did not know which.Soon it bacame clear the spectacled one was she.
The flats looked like prisons to me after being used to large open spaces.Our three bed-roomed dwelling housed two families.My aunt,uncle and three children besides our family of seven.I had to sleep with Mother who was a stranger to me now.
I became very resentfultowards my Motherand surroundings.Fretting and pining took it`s toll.I cried every night which must have been awful for Mother sleeping next to me.After a time I still yearned to go back to 'my home'and eventually returned for a holiday.The excitement was tremendous! Inevitably when it was time to return the old feeling repeated itself.Consequently I was to stay for seven months after refusing to go back to London.Atlast I had to leave despite requests for adoption,which Mother turned down flat much to my resentment.However I was to return again and again to the country.
At different times through the years introduced my family and friends to my foster folks.Given the opportunity Iwould visit them often but had to tear myself away from them each time.
At fifteen I began working in a little dairy office.It was during this time I became agoraphobic.I was very insecure and had panic attacks which remained with me for many years.
Eventually Imarried and had four sons.They have all beento my haven in the country.In later years, even my grandchildren were welcomed.
Sadly at different intervals,Mrs Cook,Ruby and Harry have all passed on.These were all very traumatic times for me.
Inspite of all the traumas and sadness endured,I would not have missed the love,the happiness and those lovely people I happen to encounter through the spoils of war.I hope my experience made me a more understanding and spiritual human being.There can be no blame on anyone.It was purely circumstantial.
My Mother died at the age of ninety three and I worked in the same sheltered home that she lived.I was able to be with her in her last days. Bless her!
My sister and I were remembered in Harry`s will for which we were very grateful but was more grateful for the love and care that was given to us through those very impressionable years.

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