Rachel Sparg, Emerge: Father And son
The Eight O’Clock
News October 2017
Every Step of the Way My Fitbit was with me every step of the way and is now either ecstatic or completely in shock! The best day clocked up 35,916 steps or 24.4kms. Walking and sometimes climbing up on the cliffs of the Portuguese west coast and the Sintra hills was both challenging and exhilarating—a microcosm of life in a way. The Fitbit measured my steps, recorded the kilometres, tracked my heart rate and equated my climbs to the equivalent flights of stairs. However, it was unable to record why my heartbeat soared at the sight of the waves of the Atlantic crashing on to Guincho beach, my standing on the Cabo da Rocha’s cliffs, bowing my head in front of the entombed Vasco da Gama in the Belem monastery, stumbling on a chapel hidden in the Sintra woods and bending to enter the tiny cells in the ancient Convento dos Capuchos. It couldn’t record my thoughts as I gazed out south over the Atlantic, thinking home is straight down there and how I thought of the ancient explorers setting out into the unknown. At the Cabo da Roca, the Cape which forms the westernmost point of mainland Portugal and indeed continental Europe, I could see why Luis de Camoes wrote: ‘Aqui, onde a terra se acaba e o mar comeca… here , where the land ends and the sea begins’. It was called the Promontorium Magnum by the Romans and for centuries before the age of exploration, it was thought of as the edge of the world. Two days before I was to stand on this promontory, while sipping a complementary port on the enclosed verandah of my hotel room, I saw the Cape in the distance and felt somewhat daunted at how I was going to reach it. More cliff-climbing and traversing of the mountainous woods was in store… but at this moment it appeared symbolic to me, a marker of the edge of something, a October 2017 Eight O’Clock News
8 am Service, Christ Church, Kenilworth
beginning and an end. The wind was wild and the waves huge but it was so exciting to watch the windsurfers on this beach at Guincho, one of the most renowned surfing beaches—for the experienced and not the faint-hearted. I was glad to be heading down to dinner where I could view the magnificent ocean, granite cliffs and crying sea birds in comfort through the panoramic dining-room windows. My Fitbit, of course was a-nice-to-have, a wonderful record of what we achieved each day… but more essential was the walking pole… this I could not have done without. A ‘rod and staff’, I thought, steadying me on the cliffs, helping me to plant my feet in the right places and a comforting leaning place when exhausted. After five days of walking when I packed away my pole, it felt for a while that something was missing. I needed it in my hand, it secured me. So here the analogy… I would be bereft in this life if I didn’t have the blessed assurance that every step I take, in His steps I plant my own. The Lord stands with me at the high points and the low ones; He is there at the pinnacles of achievement and the depths of despair. He is there keeping me safe from the crashing waves in life, the perilous cliffs and the dark woods… yet, He measures my joy too and guides me to the places that He knows are best for me. My shepherd guides me with the rod, fends off my enemies and encourages me along the safe paths. He knows my heart. - Cheryl Anderson
2
Jenny Davies 16/10/1934 to 13/9/2017
In Memory of Ma You won’t often see me as well-dressed as this, especially when
not at work, but my Mom wouldn’t want me to look ‘shabby’ at a special occasion, and this is about as special as it gets. I never enjoyed shopping for suits, as I can’t stand spending large amounts of money on clothing I largely dislike, but during her many visits to Australia, Ma would relish the prospect of accompanying me to upgrade my formal wardrobe and helping me to pick out something good. So here I am, totally out of character, in a suit from Armani. We’ve been touched by the many messages received and together they summarise many of the fine qualities of our Mom and Granny Jenny: words like deeply caring, sentimental, vibrant, intelligent, loving, acute and inquiring mind, doting granny, witty, determined, optimistic (sometimes cautiously), wonderful, wise, bright, calm, organized, courageous, did small things with great love—and a smile. To us the sum of all these parts made a greater whole—she was our Mom, our Granny, our aunt, our cousin, our friend, our friend’s Mom—she took great interest in our lives and in the lives of our children. I thought I’d read out a couple of messages sent by my children who can’t be here today: Suzi (age 19): ‘I love her and am so thankful for how much effort she put in for me, especially during difficult times, for always believing in me and being someone who always valued their family more than anyone could imagine is possible.’ Lara (13): ‘Granny Jenny was the most loyal, interesting, exotic and determined person I know. She has probably even made God lend her His throne so that she could sit there and watch this right now.’ As kids, she was quite strict, believing in balance in life and limiting treats, such as biscuits, scoops of ice-cream and watching TV. However, I think we turned out OK, although I now can’t get enough biscuits, ice cream or TV! She was also calm and considered, slow to anger. If she calmly said ‘I’m going to lose my temper soon’, you’d better take it seriously! She certainly showed determination and courage during challenging times during her life, such as her illness and decision to have no further unpleasant treatment. Also, over 30 years ago, when she and my Dad separated, she moved from a comfortable life in PE back to her hometown here, settled Mary-Ann into high school, Jean into boarding school in PE to complete her matric and had to deal with me being quite badly injured in a car accident while doing national service in the navy soon after that. However, with guts and determination, she went out to work again after a October 2017 Eight O’Clock News
20-year break and made a great home for us in Harfield Village. She applied herself to a number of roles e.g. secretaral, estate agent, Xhosa and guidance teacher, shop assistant and editor. She also enjoyed a number of outdoor activities, like tennis, waterskiing, hiking and bird-watching, as well as artistic pursuits and listening to all types of music. She particularly enjoyed participating in the opening ceremony of the 2003 cricket world cup here. She had a great sense of humour and gained much enjoyment from the characters and accents of people she met in Sydney. [Examples of ‘Time fries’ and ‘rare as shark’s teeth’]. She was always very well organized and made sure that everything was in order before she left us. She showed us where to find all her important paperwork, gave us a rundown on her financial affairs, and let us know how she wanted to be remembered today. On the day before she moved on, she insisted to my sisters that they call me up on Facetime to say goodbye. Despite her struggle at that stage to speak, she used her little remaining strength to say to me, ‘I’m giving you a kiss and waving goodbye’. That was a pretty tough call, but took a lot of thought and determination. After my sisters said their goodbyes and told her that she could go, she was satisfied that all was said and done and she left calmly and in peace. When I was here a couple of weeks ago and the time came to leave, I said, ‘Ma, I’m not sure where or when I’ll see you again, but I will see you again.’ She said, ‘yes I know, and you’ve done more for me than a mother could ever ask of a son’. I’m not so sure about that, but those were her words and I’m able to go forward with the comfort of that message. So Ma, rest easy and I’ll see you on the other side. - Charles Davies
I am terrified of public speaking. I have attended this church for
the past 32 years since we moved to Cape Town, but I have managed to avoid coming up to the front to speak into the microphone until now. However, I would love to honour my mother, and so I will be courageous, as she was throughout her life when facing challenges, and especially during her illness at the end. I will speak about a few interests which my Mom and I both enjoyed and that I obviously learnt from her. The first more serious interest is psychology. My Mom told me that going for counselling or psychotherapy would be the best investment I could make in myself. Not only did I go for many a therapy session, but I also ended up studying educational psychology. She herself did an honours degree in psychology, and she encouraged me through all my studies. My Mom was wise and considered all major decisions involving us very carefully, always consulting appropriate and experienced professionals like psychologists and church ministers. We both shared a love of fine art. She attended life drawing and other art classes at different times in her life and so have I. Again, she always encouraged me with my painting. Her enjoyment of art spilled over into doing fun art and craft activities with her grandchildren. She used to collect all sorts of bits and pieces for creative sticking and pasting on paper with them. Baking is another interest I inherited. My Mom even attended cake decorating classes long ago, and made us many beautifully iced birthday cakes. There were always freshly made, delicious biscuits in our house, although she was strict about how many we could eat—and my children will tell you that in our home it’s exactly the same!
A favourite shared interest was ballet. My Mom attended ballet classes up until Standard 9 and so did I. She used to say her car could drive itself automatically to my ballet class venue, and that it would sometimes start driving there even when she was supposed to be travelling in another direction! It was very special taking my Mom to Artscape for the last time in August. We used a wheelchair to cover some of the walking distance and then she managed to get to the best middle of the row seats that I had booked. We saw a Dance for All production which included dances to the songs, Pata Pata and The Click Song by Miriam Makeba, which she thoroughly enjoyed. Dance for All is an organisation that provides ballet and other forms of dance classes to disadvantaged children and young adults. My Mom was a great Dance for All supporter, and I thought it was a perfect ending to our shared ballet days. My daughter was also with us, and I always felt deep joy and satisfaction when all three generations were at the ballet together—I hope my Mom did too. Luckily for my son, his sister was born, so he was spared from ballet. And, of course, my daughter loves her ballet lessons! This is a small insight into some of the most enjoyable and fulfilling aspects of my life which my Mom passed on to me. There will be a huge gap without her. I thank God for giving me such an excellent mother and role model. - Jean Welsh
What can you say about an 82-year old girl who died—and I call her a girl because she was always so young at heart. She was beautiful—and brilliant. She loved birds, the ballet—and boogie boarding. And that she loved us, not just her children, but all of us who have come to celebrate her life today. As a mother myself I know that I make lots of mistakes, and my children will be only too happy to tell you all about them, but what I learned from mom is that what matters most as a parent, is of course love, and then being thoughtful about parenting. We were so lucky to have both a loving and a thoughtful mother. Ma’s thoughtfulness was expressed practically in many ways throughout our lives—the choice of schools, guidance about our careers, with our holidays, our friendships and our children. Although she was a single mother from the time I was 13, she was always sure to organize fun holidays throughout my high school years. When I was in Standard 6 and Charles was in hospital for an extended period, she would always only take him half a bar of chocolate when she visited him and save the other half for me—things had to be fair. Ma’s thoughtfulness also meant that whenever there was a crisis—there were plenty—she was always willing to drop everything and come to provide comfort, support and never-failing wisdom. I really appreciated that she didn’t try to just fix things if I was miserable, but let me know that it was ok to feel sad. I’m sure she would be telling us the same thing today. Ma’s thoughtfulness extended to everyone she met. She was never a wallflower at social events but was always interested in others, wanting to know what they were doing, finding out about their backgrounds, or to share a view of life. She often knew all sorts of things about my friends that I never did, simply because she took time to ask and listen to their stories. Of course, Ma’s thoughtfulness and tendency to be very organized could also be rather trying—as she always knew exactly how she wanted things done and had thought about every detail. I’m sure many of you have received phone calls from her with detailed instructions of exactly why she is phoning, what you need to do, when you should do it, and who else needs October 2017 Eight O’Clock News
3
to be involved. And to be thoughtful yourself and not phone her back during her favourite TV programmes of Noot vir noot or Sewende Laan. A big part of Ma’s life was both studying and teaching isiXhosa, something she passed on to her children and grandchildren. it’s been a major bonus to have a mom and granny who could help with the Xhosa homework! And she was even utitshalakazi (teacher) for some of you here today. She always said her interest in African languages started quite by chance when she was a student, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it was because of her interest in other people and wanting to understand their stories, and perhaps because she wanted to be a little different—it must have been an unusual choice at the time. When Ma was in first year at UCT in the 1950s, things were very different to how they are today. On the appointed registration day you would just go up to campus and put your name down for whichever subjects you felt like. Ma signed up for English, History and French, and then needed a 4th subject to complete the first year BA requirements, and thought she may as well give isiXhosa a try. It turned out that she was very good at it and liked it a lot. A few years later after travelling, she decided to complete her BA. At the time, she was working as a secretary at the Institute of Race Relations, where a large part of her job was helping people with problems due to the Pass Laws. So it made complete sense for her to major in African Languages. She continued to work part -time at race relations while she was studying, so she would first attend her classes at UCT in the morning and then hitch a lift to her job in town in the afternoons. I just love thinking of mom in her 1960 office clothes, standing on De Waal drive below UCT, with her thumb up waiting for a lift. Ma always told a story about one day when she had hitched a lift, and as they headed into town on Roeland Street, they suddenly saw the march of 30,000 people led by Philip Kgosana. The person she had got a lift with was terrified and wanted to turn around, but Mom was so excited that people were protesting about the injustice she saw at work every day, that she wanted to get out of the car and join in. So Mom was very proudly South African of our rainbow nation. She was a keen supporter of all South African sport, even if, like me, she wasn’t always too clear on the finer points of the game. At one stage I was even a bit worried about how much time she and her friends were spending at the pub of the Alphen Hotel, until I found out they were just there to watch the rugby. And that tells you that Mom was fun. She was always game to participate or try something new and never scared of making a fool of herself, especially if it would be good laugh. Whether it was going camping in Namibia with the entirely Afrikaans-speaking Beaufort West Bird Club, wearing her dressing gown and using a feather duster as a magic wand to entertain us as the Christmas Fairy, boogie boarding in the waves until she was almost eighty, going away for weekends with her friends, organizing one of the Social Evenings at her retirement home, Norfolk Place, or singing along and dancing with her arms waving to whatever her children, or even her grandchildren, chose as our current favourite song. And she played endless fun games with her grandchildren—she would hide pieces of shiny paper for them to find in her garden, she played hide and seek on many visits to Kirstenbosch, or chased them with one of her walking sticks which she called her ‘hot poker stick’, she danced with them to ballet music, and played running away from waves on the beach—none of it was ever too much effort for Granny Jenny. Ma, I am so grateful that my children will have such fond memories of their very loving, fun—and a bit crazy—Granny Jenny. [Continued on page 4]
4
Escape to Thailand A wonderful three-week escape with a friend to Thailand in
August opened up a whole new world to me. I had never travelled to the East and it was such a thrilling experience. From the two busy days in Bangkok visiting temples and the amazing Jim Thompson House (museum), to a five-day beach holiday on Koh Samui island (in the Gulf of Thailand), and finally just over a week at a retreat in the northern parts, I was given every opportunity to relax and unwind. I found the Thai people to be warm, welcoming and kind, and I greatly enjoyed the food—whether from a street stall or from more formal eateries. The place we stayed in the north is based on an organic farm: lush, green and bountiful; meals were superb: fresh ingredients from the farm daily, all vegetarian—and delicious. It was very hot and humid everywhere but one adapts with time. Two highlights included a day of snorkelling and kayaking (below) around a group of islands off Koh Samui, and a day of jungle trekking in the north, visiting hill tribe villages along the way. A world apart from our own, it was a wonderful opportunity to engage with such a different culture and to meet some really interesting people along the way too. - Pippa Parker (on R of photograph)
The 100th sheep being carried on the shoulders of the Good Shepherd (Luke 15). Sketched by Sarah Crowther in watercolour pencil during Emerge camp.
[continued from page 3] But life isn’t all fun and games and as you’ve heard, Mom’s life wasn’t always easy so I think the following quote really rings true for her: ‘Success is not measured by what we accomplish but by the opposition we have encountered, and the courage with which we have maintained the struggle against overwhelming odds.’ There is no doubt that Mom was an unmitigated success. She was a brilliant example of how to be courageous in adversity and that it is ok when things go wrong. She showed us that courage is not all about being brave on the outside but also about being frail and vulnerable and allowing ourselves to be supported by those around us. When I think of the difficult weeks and months to come, I know that I will draw deeply on the kind of true courage that she showed throughout her life. I want to end with words that Mom taught us but which I may never be able to say as well as she could: Hamba kakuhle Mama wethu. Enkosi kakhulu. - Mary-Ann Davies October 2017 Eight O’Clock News
5
Getting Back on the Bike Who was it who said, ‘once you learn to ride a bike you never
forget?’ Well that may apply to under 50s but at 74 it is a different story! In London I was surprised at how wobbly and unsure I felt and didn't venture beyond the garden gate. In Amsterdam where I had ridden almost daily for 17 years, I fell off into a flower bed within seconds. As they say—third time lucky, so in Berlin, on a smaller bike with hand brakes I managed to stay put for about thirty minutes. I didnt feel really at home and couldn't control my direction very well—a rather important feature when riding in public. For the rest though my trip was enjoyable and a success. I started off in London being met by Jane (violin classmate 1968). She and Steve ‘looked after' me, my having lost my all-important list of names,numbers and email addresses somewhere between Cape Town and London. But I still managed to see many old friends in Birmingham, London, Long Buckby and Lyndhurst (and many animals in the beautiful New Forrest.) In Amsterdam, having finally made it to Central Station from a very enlarged and unrecognisable Schiphol Airport , I was met by Bill (stand partner for seven years in the Netherlands Philharmonic). He and wife Hennie, live in picturesque Monnikendam and had organised a get-together with ex- colleagues in a Pannekoeken huis nearby. It really felt comfortable—as if I had never left. On to Geneva where brother Dennis and wife Jeya drove me around picturesque Switzerland. Though the weather forecast had banished all hopes of camping we were caught in a thunder, rain and hailstorm. So, instead of exploring Adelboden (much changed since 1966), we sat listening as the hail clattered onto the car. I also enjoyed a wonderful boat trip to Ivoire, a medieval town now housing quaint and interesting little shops selling anything from lace to licorice. After bustling Geneva I was ready to come home, wondering why I had organised such along trip. How was I going to manage another two weeks of travel and towns? BUT—the best was yet to be.
Having taken no less than four hours to connect, I finally met my longsuffering second cousin, Gunilla in Stockholm—at 10 pm. After a lengthy drive into a darker and darker area we finaly parked and walked by torchlight, through forest, up wooden steps, more forrest, over a wooden bridge, more steps, more forest. Next morning when I awoke and opened the door of my little wooden hut, all I saw was green trees, shimmering leaves—no bustling city waiting to be explored. This was IT—my reason for coming to Europe—and it was a total surprise. I had no idea Ingaroe even existed ! Up over the hill—on which they have built comfortable wooden houses so that their ever-growing family and distant relatives can relax in the summer—one looks down onto a lakelike inlet of the Baltic sea where we swam every morning before breakfast. The rest of the day was spent lazing about, chatting and enjoying the view. I also spent two wonderful days at another second cousin's farm where I got to pick (and eat) any number of ripe cherries—the timing was perfect! My days of doing nothing were too soon over and I flew to Berlin where I simply trailed along after nephew David and his son Philipp who had come up from Munich to see me. They made all the decisions as to what to see and what could be left out. Berlin is HUGE and the restoration of both east and west Berlin is impressive. We walked and saw a lot, went to several exhibitions and enjoyed the food—both culinary and mental. I stayed at relatives (closer than the Swedish ones) and it was wonderful to renew contact and get to know them better. It was a perfect trip. This scatterbrain got the timing more or less right. I travelled light, gained weight and only lost a pair of glasses.
- Liz Engel
Group photograph At Emerge camp. A wonderful time to lose and find ! October 2017 Eight O’Clock News
Song for Sarah Lessons from my mother
By Jonathan Jansen with Naomi Jansen
I came to the end of this book wishing that I’d met Sarah Jansen,
yet feeling that I actually knew her. This is a very readable book written by Sarah’s son, well-known academic and previous Vice Chancellor of the University of the Free State. Professor Jonathan Jansen, with shorter comments at the end of each chapter by his sister, Naomi Jansen. Naomi’s comments give added insights and sometimes another angle. The author wrote this book to pay tribute to his mother and other mothers he knew, ‘to contradict vulgar stereotypes of Cape Flats mothers’. He does just that, with warm affection and great humour. His use of language is wonderful. I found myself constantly rereading paragraphs. My involvement with this book was quite personal at times because I’m familiar with some of the situations he writes about. I spent a number of my formative years in the Brethren Assemblies. While working in a Pietermaritzburg hospital, I sometimes went to visit Woodlands Assembly with a missionary friend and met many people with the surnames mentioned in the book. I spent 17 years being part of Emmanuel, a wonderful congregation where my husband was the rector. There I met many people so like the people Prof Jonathan writes about—feisty, determined women who ruled their families with determination to see them succeed in life regardless of the apartheid laws, and who also played valuable roles in the community. I went into some homes that looked just like the ones in the book. Our daughter-inlaw went to the same school as Dr Jansen’s father, Livingstone High, although some years later. I have experienced the amazing hospitality and generosity he talks about, and listened with amazement to stories of forced removals and other indignities that I, growing up in a different community, knew so little about. Sarah and her husband, Abraham, were married by a missionary from the Brethren Assemblies, Sam Moore. CCK people will be interested to know that this was the father of Dr Sam Moore. Sarah’s story is told with great honesty, with the thread through all the chapters being what her son learned from her about life. She taught him how to live in a very troubled South Africa, and in her last days when she was dying of cancer, she taught him how to die with dignity in spite of great pain. During our years at Emmanuel, I met so many older people who impressed (and puzzled) me with their great dignity. How could they be so dignified when they’d grown up as victims in a country that was geared to remove dignity at every point? Sarah’s story explains some of that. The writer refers to himself in the narrative as Firstborn, his childhood nickname. I found that rather endearing. Sometimes I found myself laughing out loud as I read certain parts where I could just picture the people mentioned (getting me some odd looks on the bus where I do lots of reading). When one of the children misbehaved Sarah sometimes punished all of them, using a branch of the Port Jackson willow that grew in the yard. Her logic? ‘Somewhere in the next few hours you are going to do something wrong so while I’m at it...’ The author speaks of her giving lashes ‘as she progressed slowly from one child to the next in energy-saving moves that would have made Eskom proud’. Women are required to remain silent in the Sunday gatherings, yet the writer mentions how in many of the homes it was the women who played very strong roles and gave direction to the family. That was my experience in some instances, and I found it very October 2017 Eight O’Clock News
6
interesting. I loved the descriptions about food, having eaten so many of those doughnuts rolled in cocoanut, and many of the other delights described. I came to realise how food was central to so many of life’s celebrations. There is just so much in this book to remind you of the awful dark days of legislated apartheid, with accounts that will bring tears to your eyes, yet so much to delight and make you laugh as you are exposed to the richness of the culture portrayed. You have to read this book !
- Jeanette Harris
Dear Firstborn I started reading 'Song for Sarah' the day I bought it, or rather at
night in bed. I couldn't fall asleep because Sarah's story reminded me of Maggie, who was born in Swellendam. Maggie’s sister Frances worked and lived in our house in Rondebosch. Then Maggie came into my life, I can't remember exactly when. So I lay in bed writing a letter to you in my head. Maggie was put into service when she was five years old. She never went to school. She had an abusive husband, one daughter and four sons. She was much loved by her children. Our relationship was always good, because of who Maggie was. She tried going to night school but with working every day for different families in the suburbs and looking after her own, it was too problematic for her. In actual fact she was as bright as a button. We were close, and when I had twins—a boy and a girl (out of wedlock), she (and my mother) was there for me. Maggie said, 'I want them to call me Nanny, I've never been called Nanny.' She loved my children and they loved her. Maggie died around the age of 90 (I think). Her only son-in-law asked me to speak at her funeral. No, I said, I couldn't. He persevered a day or so later. I thought, I can do this for Maggie. I couldn't get anyone to come with me so went off to the church in Grassy Park. There were three busloads of mourners, and three pastors involved with the service. Bottom line, I was able to pay tribute to one of my very best friends. Her son-in-law whispered as he escorted me back to my seat, ‘that was perfect’. So all that came back to me when I started reading about your Mother... Do you mind that I wanted to tell you? With appreciation Diana Hoffa
Dear Diana I am so delighted that you took the time to write to me and to tell me about your experience of the Sarah book and of Maggie. Thank you also for attending the book launch this past evening. So much appreciated. Take care and stay in touch
- Jonathan Jansen
Lost and Found * The sheep, the silver coin, the sons of the generous father: ‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ Luke 15: 31-31
7
Enjoying Retirement ‘Ronnie and I are privileged to be in a cell group with Jean and
Roal van Zyl Smit and have been fascinated to learn of some of Roal’s interesting hobbies. From an early age Roal followed the example of his mother who loved to fix and repair all manner of items! He grew up in a workshop! Roal’s mother and father loved attending second-hand sales looking for items to restore. They bought two broken violins, subsequently ‘inherited’ by Roal. These sparked his interest in violin restoration. 1 1 Rebuilt violin next to one in process of restoration. The challenge for Roal was to build a violin ‘from scratch’. He established that little had changed in more than 400 years of violin making and design as initiated by the Amati family, and subsequently perfected by famous Cremona master builders such as the Guarneri family and Stradivarius himself. 2 Amati 2 violin on left and modern violin on right, Stradivarius in the middle. Almost all modern day violins are factorymade, thus the challenge was to build a totally handmade violin with the tools and materials of yesteryear. In making the violin Roal sourced the traditional wood still used for violin making today. Spruce is used for the curved front of the violin and is a major determinant of the tone of the instrument. Maple is used for the back, sides, neck and bridge of the violin.
It is largely chosen for its decorative properties. Ebony is used for the familiar black ‘fingerboard’. The front and back of the violin may be as thin as 3 mm (even less in places) yet when strung, it is able to withstand a downward pressure of up to 12 kg. The traditional ‘hide glue’ used in the early instruments is still used as the best—and for practical purposes the only—glue in modern hand-built violins. One of its most useful properties is the ease with which one is able to glue and ‘unglue’ a violin without causing damage. The violin was ‘varnished’ with approximately 15 layers of different compounds, similar to those used by the early masters using various mixtures of substances such as genuine turpentine, other pine resins, linseed oil, amber, egg white, gelatine, pumice, bee propolis, shellac, potassium dichromate, gamboge, etc , The completed violin was recently displayed at a doctors’ medical art exhibition. Having completed the violin it was only natural to move onto making a ‘scratch build’ violin bow. The techniques used are quite different and materials include Pernambuco wood for the stick, ebony for the so called ‘frog’, stirling silver for the trimmings, bone (no longer ivory!) for the tip and horse hair for the stringing. Techniques relating to bowmaking are complex. Bowmakers’ skills are also needed for repairs to broken bows of careless users! A total of eight small violins have been restored, four of which are currently being used by the children of friends and family. It is a source of great joy for Roal and Jean to see the progress being made with violin lessons, but especially to see their love of music being developed in the next generation. Roal is not only a very talented physician but also a gifted craftsman and wonderful friend. It is inspiring for us to see retirement well spent, with fruitfulness and joy—with faithful Jean at Roal’s side!
- Ed & Ronnie Morgan
Dareth Wood Turns 80 ! The Wood family hosted a lunch
October 2017 Eight O’Clock News
party to celebrate the occasion. The family (minus two grandchildren) and close friends enjoyed a leisurely, delicious, fun-filled meal with speechrevealing stories of the ‘inside’ Working of this family whom God treasures
8
Skellig Island Melinda and I have recently returned from a holiday visiting
family and friends in Ireland and England. Part of the holiday was to explore some of the more remote areas of Western Ireland and Cornwall. The trip to Ireland was a whirlwind week’s drive through very narrow winding country lanes with overgrown hedges and ancient stone walls. The trip to Cornwall was a walk over ten days covering about 120 km of cliff coastline and wind-swept moorlands. The walking period of the holiday was extremely relaxing without having to worry about traffic or parking. Walking through the countryside between small harbour towns, hamlets and villages is definitely a memorable experience. The walking gave time to relax and explore historic sites and the many art galleries. There were so many interesting historic sites that we visited from: The Loe, the largest natural freshwater lake in Cornwall where King Arthur is said to have thrown his sword Excalibur; Chûn Quoit which is one of the best preserved of all Neolithic (3,500 to 2,500 BC) quoits in Western Cornwall, to going through the old mining tunnels in the cliff side and at Geevers Tin and Copper mine, to seeing some of the earliest Celtic Churches like St Kevin’s Church with its (‘Rapunzel’) round towers in Glendalough, County Wicklow, Galerous Oretory near Dingle in County Kerry. One of the most fascinating visits was to Skellig Michael, an inhospitable skellig (island) off the Wild West Coast of Ireland. The earliest reference in history to the Skellig Islands dates back to 600AD. Skellig Michael was home to one of the earliest monastic settlements in Ireland. The monks of St. Fionan's monastery led simple lives and lived in stone, beehive-shaped huts. They would descend the 670 steps early every morning and fish for the morning's breakfast and would spend the rest of the day praying in the church, tending to their gardens and studying. The huts, which are round on the outside and rectangular on the inside, were carefully built so that no drop of rain ever entered between the stones. The monks left the island in the 13th century and it became a place of pilgrimage. There is a fantastic wealth of birdlife on and around the Skelligs, especially puffins (which sadly we missed) in late spring and gannets on the Small Skellig. In keeping with the Celtic traditions Mike prayed the psalms at many of the ancient religious sites and more modern churches. Emulating the Celtic Evangelical tradition and Paul’s
Melinda at St Fionan’s Monastery, Skellig Michael interpretation of Psalm 14 in Romans 3 (below) is a prayer based on Psalm 14 that was read on Skellig Michael.
- Mike Winfield
Will the rebellious never learn? Only the foolish say in their hearts, ‘Jesus is not God!’ By rejecting His love, they have no defender for their soul. Father looks down from heaven on all humanity; He looks to see whether anyone truly understands, if anyone seeks His presence. But no one is morally perfect, no not one person. No one on their own seeks God, no one is free from errors of judgement. Left to our own devices we become worthless. Yes all of us! Will the rebellious never learn? They live their lives without a concern, never considering that they will be called to give an account! Horrific terror and dread awaits them, for God’s presence is with those who obey Christ. The foolish bring judgement on themselves, for Jesus protects those who recognise their spiritual poverty. Oh, that the veil would be removed from the hearts of the foolish, they will know that Christ has restored the fortunes of all people, they would rejoice and celebrate with all who are reconciled to Father. Editorial Team Tel/e-mail
David & Yve Leslie’s son, Sandy, his wife Leah with Rebecca and Sophia. October 2017 Eight O’Clock News
Ev Els
021 696 0336 emichael@iafrica.com
Cheryl Anderson
083 272 1530 canderson@beckman.com