2020

 

2020 has been a great teacher. It has taught us:

1.    That the earth needs healing. 2 short months of isolation and the world showed immense improvement. We need to remember this and do our best to keep it clean.

2.    That working from home is possible, can be enjoyable, productive and profitable.

3.    To value friends, neighbours and family.

4.    To follow rules to stay safe.

5.    To enjoy alone time

6.    To stop destructive behaviour and  implement positive habits

7.    To meet challenges with equanimity and finally

8.    To accept change.

Unfortunately

1.    Not all students follow the teachings

2.    Many students strutted around with complete and total disregard of their (or anyone else’s) safety

3.    Many students derided their government’s efforts to keep us safe

4.    Many students screamed fake news or conspiratory theories

To those who have lost people to Covid I send my heartfelt condolences.

To those who are struggling with the disease. Take one day at a time and celebrate each small achievement and milestone. Try to use the hard days as stepping stones to the next success.

To those who are caring for Covid patients. My heart goes out and I pray for your strength and immunity.

Statues in the Garden

The statues of Peter Pan and Wendy fascinated me. They were partially hidden by the undergrowth and a flowering tree branch extended over them. Every now and again a blossom detached and drifted down between them. As I watched the fallen blossoms became fairies who danced on the breeze touching Wendy’s hair as they drifted past. The wind changed direction slightly and the next batch of fairies played around Peter’s hat before falling into the space between Peter and Wendy

Peter was sitting with his eyes focused on the bird bath between them. Wendy had her arms linked behind her as she bent towards the bird bath.

A beautiful yellow bird fluttered down and sat on Peter’s cap, another one sat on Wendy’s hair. The two birds set up a conversation – each twittering in turn. They then companionably flew down to the birdbath and splattered in the water. Their joy was palpable

Bells

The bells calling the villagers to the fair sounded so joyful. It was hard to ignore the festive sound. In my mind’s eye I could see Johnathan pulling on the ropes in the bell tower.

Johnathan was born with Down’s syndrome but had always been an adventurous child. He was fascinated by the sound of the bells. Father Mullany watched him with  interest. When Johnathan was eight years old the father offered to teach him bell ringing. This would be the youngest person that Father had ever trained. He was also a bit worried that it might be too much for a child with Down’s syndrome.

Johnathan excitedly pulled his mother to the church on the afternoon of his first lesson. Father Mullany had arranged a table with a set of hand bells. Johnathan proudly counted them and turned to smile at his mother.

“Mom there are 8 bells. Father why are these bells so small? Are the ones in the tower this small?”

“No, Johnathan, The bells in the tower are very big and heavy so we always start off with a set of hand bells.”

Johnathan’s mom sat at the back of the church and watched the lesson. At the end of an hour, Father Mullany drew the lesson to a close.

“Johnathan we need to stop now. You have been one of the best pupils I have ever had. No one else has been able to play a tune at the end of an hour.”

Johnathan beamed. It wasn’t often that he was the best in anything.

“But can’t we do more?” he asked.

“Sorry Johnathan but I have to get ready for another appointment. Let’s plan when we can have our next lesson.”

Johnathan’s mom choked back the tears as she came forward to fetch him.

“He has got a wonderful knack,” said Father Mullany. “He has learnt so fast!”

Jonathan face was split by the biggest smile that his mom had ever seen.

Very soon he was ready to take his place with the bell ringing society. But the bells in the tower still fascinated him.

“You need to be very strong to handle those bells,” said Father Mullany.

“Why?” asked Johnathan.

“Because the bells are very heavy and you have to have strong arms and shoulders.”

“Okay. I’ll get strong,” replied Johnathan.

When Johnathan got home he asked his father to help him get stronger. Together they searched the internet for exercises. It soon became their special time, the time they spent together gathering tips and developing their shoulders and arms. Equipment was bought when they could afford it and finally when Johnathan turned thirteen he presented himself to Father Mullany. Together they climbed the stairs to the top of the bell tower and Father Mullany strapped noise mufflers onto Johnathan’s head and then put his own on. Johnathan tried the biggest bell and was thrilled when it produced a deep rolling tone. He skipped over to the next bell and then the next. He was in his element. He managed three of the bells but could not handle the other two as well. Father Mullany laughed at his disappointed face and told him that if he wanted to play tunes with these bells he needed to get some help. So together they pulled and released bells until they had a lovely harmony going.

Johnathan quickly became adept and proudly took his place as an official campanologist for the church.

 

A 2020 Christmas

Penny kneeled on the seat in the bay window of her lounge. Her elbows were propped up on the back rest of the seat and her chin rested in her hands as she stared outside with virtually unseeing eyes.

She was missing her dad so much and she could see that her mom missed him as well. She didn’t understand the situation. She was only eight years old. Her thoughts thundered in her mind as she grappled with the facts. Daddy was a plastic surgeon and every year, at the end of February he would join something called Doctors and borders or something. Daddy had told her that he was needed in other places and God wanted him to help people who had no doctors near them. Again this was something that seemed strange to her. There were doctors all over -near her home and near her school.

Then something called lock down happened and mommy had told her there was a horrible sickness that could really hurt Granny and Gramps so they all had to stay inside. Mommy also told her that daddy wouldn’t be able to come home just yet because South Africa had closed down and were not allowing people to come in even if their homes were in South Africa.

Every Sunday at 3 o’clock Daddy would come in on the computer and they could chat. It was lovely - almost, but not quite, as if he was  actually there. As the days, weeks, months went by she settled into the “at home” routine waiting patiently for three o’clock every Sunday afternoon.

One Sunday as they were talking she heard some loud bangs in the background and she asked “Why are they letting off fireworks Daddy? Is it Diwali?”

“No,” said daddy, “Some people just like big noises.”

But she noticed her mother looked worried as she asked “When are you coming home?”

“Children are getting hurt,” said Daddy. “They have asked us to stay behind and help them.”

And so the days, weeks and months continued to fly by. It was now December and Christmas was close. Penny was sad that her daddy still was not home. Every night she prayed that God would keep daddy safe and would bring him home.

One Saturday night as her mom tucked her in and said goodnight, Penny said “Tomorrow is Sunday and we can talk to Daddy.”

She snuggled up to her bear and her eyes grew heavy and she slept.

As the morning sun crept into her room she lazily stretched and felt a sliver of excitement creep over her. Sunday! We can talk to Daddy. She grabbed her teddy and made her way to the kitchen. She stared, scrunched up her eyes, opened them again and yes he was there, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand. Penny launched herself at him screaming “Daddy! You are home! You are here for Christmas!”

Coffee and mug spewed over the kitchen floor as Daddy grabbed her in an almost bear-like hug.

© Vera Alexander

 

Random Nonsensical Right Brain Thoughts

I didn’t realise that you could smell sunlight. Suddenly today the realisation hit. We all know that we can smell rain but sunshine??? No way! Yes way!

As I walked in the garden I was aware that everything smelt different, better than it did yesterday when it was raining. I was also aware that everything was clearer, but I have known that my whole life. I was now enamoured with the fact that I was smelling sunlight.

So what words can I use that will help you smell sunlight? It smells clean. It smells fresh and the light reflecting from surfaces smells like pine and yet there are no pine trees anywhere around.

It is a smell that makes me want to run around touching plants, touching surfaces.

Sunlight – it brings light. It brings brightness. It brings positivity. It brings hope.

And it brings its own clear, fresh smell.

 

JouJou by Frances Roberts

My beloved cat JouJou left this world some fifteen years ago. I can still clearly remember the day we met. I answered an advertisement of a farmer from Creighton who brought day old chicks to Durban. I met her at the Hypermarket and climbed into the back seat of her yellow Volkswagen Beetle. A little bundle of fur crept out from under the front seat. I knew instantly that we were destined to be together. A pretty bluepoint Siamese, I named him JouJou. From the very beginning he was a special companion. He kept me grounded. Seriously. At the drop of a hat I would be off for the weekend or even longer. Now I had to think of JouJou. But on the bright side of course, I now had someone to come home to.

He was a delicate creature. In his early years he had health problems and we both developed a long and expensive relationship with the vet. Until, hooray! A certain pet food company came to the rescue. I know the special food for kidneys, teeth and general health not only saved my bank balance from slowly disappearing; it also extended JouJou’s life to a considerable degree. I loved him probably more than any human being and his loss was a pain beyond words.

Goldie by Nichola Rhys

Goldie realised that there was something different about her even while she was still suckling from her Golden Retriever mummy’s teats. She knew that she was meant for something different from the brothers and sisters suckling alongside her. She knew that she was meant for something special, even while she was still too little to be given a name by a human. She had barely started drinking and eating from grown-up bowls when a beautiful girl human with bouncy curly head fur the same lovely colour as her mum’s, bent over the basket in which she lay snuggled up with her siblings. That head fur, the same colour as her own too, set up an immediate connection. She sniffed the human’s hands, then felt herself lifted up close as the human touched her human nose against her own damp puppy nose. She sniffed the face human’s face and neck too. Mmm, she smelled good, in a human sort of way. The little pink puppy tongue came out and licked the human’s face. Mmm, that tasted good, too.

She knew enough human language by now to understand that this human’s name was Megan and that she was looking for a dog for her brother Geoff. Then there were some other words that she didn’t understand. Disabled. Lonely. Depressed. She hadn’t heard those words before but something about the sound of them made her little puppy heart ache. Nuzzling against the girl human’s neck, she hoped the human’s brother looked and smelled and tasted and felt as nice as this one did. If he did, then she knew that she could make his achy feelings go away; she knew that she could make him happy.

 

Missy by Presh Cele

I looked forward to walking you to the gate every morning although I hated to see you go. However, I knew that I would see you again after school. Do you know how much my legs pained from jumping up and down after school when you came home? All that excitment I couldn't contain.
But I wouldn't trade that pain for anything in this world.

One day you just left Presh, and you never came back. You didn't say goodbye!

I waited by the gate for weeks! Weeks turned into months, months turned years.

Do you still think about me?

Do you still remember me?
I miss you
Missy (your short legged Jack Russell)

Healing Touch

 She looked over the fence and watched the cows in the field. The one closest to her was black and had a spotted calf suckling while the mother chewed on the cud. As the mother stood ruminating she looked at Micha with her soft brown eyes framed with long eyelashes

Micha was afraid to break the contact as she was sure that the animal was trying to make contact with Micha’s eyes and seemed to delve deep into Micha’s soul. It felt as if it was trying to help her solve her problems. In a strange way the suckling calf brought a sense of closure.

Micha had been distraught since the miscarriage and wondered why an animal could bring such peace whereas all the people around her had not been able to. She felt that no one could relate. None of her friends had been through the same thing. She had almost felt inadequate in some way and yet here this babe was somehow getting through to her. Somehow it was giving her hope. As this thought started to take hold the calf trotted to the fence and nudged her hand. As she stroked the calf’s muzzle peace such as she had never felt before took hold and hope entered her being.

John Masefield loved the sea

 

As I sit on the beach I close my eyes until I am surrounded by the sounds of the waves crashing on to the beach. The sound is rhythmical and takes me with it. Crash…Sssshhh as it recedes. Suddenly the sound is disturbed by joyful barks. I open my eyes to see what has dared to come between me and the story that the waves are trying to tell me.

It is a young Alsatian who seems to be equally enthralled by the waves but whereas my thoughts were very personal and self-contained, this young dog wants everyone to hear his joy. He is quite funny. As the wave crashes to the beach he barks and darts backwards and forwards. As he reaches the wave he snaps at it and then darts away and seems surprised by its retreat. He leaps and bounds at it only to be surprised by the next wave as it gathers momentum.

Arrival in Cape Town

Leandra dreamed her way through the long trip and soon the rolling fields started to make way for houses. The houses became more clustered and if she looked out the one window the houses became more dilapidated and closer together. The other side of the bus showed simple houses with quite a bit of ground around them most were fenced off in an attempt to create a bit of privacy for the occupants.

As she glanced out at the squatter camp on the other side her eye was caught by bright colours as every now and then someone had tried to uplift their surroundings, a couple of the shacks had some artistic graffiti giving that shack some individuality. One thing that puzzled her was that almost every shack had a satellite dish. She pondered how the people could afford satellite and then she saw some spanking new cars scattered amongst the ghosts of cars past. Some people had strange priorities.

Soon she was at the bus terminus waiting to grab her meagre luggage as it was unloaded from the luggage compartment of the bus. It was good to stretch her legs. She stood for a few moments wondering “What next?”

She didn’t know anyone in Cape Town so had not made arrangements to be fetched. She had booked herself into a Clifton B&B temporally until she got her feet firmly set on her career path when she could upgrade her situation. Her new firm seemed to be fairly close to the B&B.

As she stood breathing in the clean Cape Town air she murmured “Ah 2020! What have you got in store for me?”

She remembered the New Year celebrations where everyone was cheering it in as it seemed to offer such great potential – 2020 eyesight etc.

The driver nudged her out of her reverie and asked if she was sorted. “Do you have someone coming to fetch you?” she asked.

“Um… No!” replied Leandra. “I suppose I should phone an Uber or something.”

“No need,” said the driver as she waved her hand in the air. “A few drivers wait around the bus station in the hopes of getting a fare. I’ve called over my cousin. He is trustworthy and won’t take advantage of a stranger to the city.”

Just then an old, sparkling clean Volksie pulled up driven by a smiling, open faced guy.

“Hi Marvin!” said the driver. “Look after this passenger of mine please.”

With that the driver turned to Leandra and said “My name is Margaret. Here is my card and here is Marvin’s card. If he gives you any sass phone me! But I know he won’t. I’d suggest that you get him to help you out until you get used to the city. Welcome to the Mother City.”

Giving Leandra a huge smile Margaret slammed the luggage compartment closed and made her way back to the bus.

Leandra turned back to Marvin who was hefting her luggage into the car’s boot before turning back to her and asking “Now where to Mam?”

Leandra gave him the piece of paper which had her new address, climbed into the back seat, breathed a deep breath as she thought “Now the bridges are burnt but there are new ones for me to cross.” She settled back into the seat as Marvin slid into the driver’s seat, started the car and drove out of the parking space.

© Vera Alexander.