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Monday, 26 December 2016

Part 2 of My 89 Years

As I have mentioned several times before, I am not into the word religion, but respect other people's viewpoint in regards to it. 
To me holy are those who give up so much of their lives to help others.
That heading has prompted me to start off my blog this time with
the memory of a great soul that has touched my heart very deeply
since I first heard about her. She is now called St Mother Teresa.
A number of years ago when she came to visit New Zealand on one
of her charity missions, a gentleman whose name name I have failed
to capture wrote this lovely poem about her.

             There’s a feeling on earth of thanksgiving.
               There’s rejoicing, neath the Cross and the sod,
                 Choirs of angels are singing in Heaven,
                    Mother Teresa has gone home to God

               A little lady from Albania, we called Mother
                  Uncomplaining she lived from life’s crumbs,
                     Never seeking earth’s plaudits or honours,
                       Just remembered as Mother of the slum
                          A real friend of the lost and lonely,
                         With compassion, she filled beggars bowls
                           With a hope for a brighter hereafter
                          She brought comfort to millions of souls

                       From the gutters and slums of Calcutta
                           Upon the destitute and dying she smiled,
                      She heard and understood the pains of Motherhood, 
She heard the cries from an unborn child

                                 So many Missions of Charity she founded,
                                  The Nobel Peace Prize her earthy reward,
                                     For a lifetime dedicated to the needy,
                                   Her ambitions, a worthy servant of The Lord.

                                    We recall how she once came to see us,
                                   She was humble, around her head a cloth rag.
                                     She had a heart full of Love for New Zealand,
                                        And her belongings in a common cabin bag

                                                Her smile she gave of so freely
                                                  A smile was the simplest of her pleas
                                                      For the unloved, unwanted.

While I’m on the subject of Smiles that develop from the loving heart,
I would like to draw your attention to another very beautiful person
who touched my life very deeply. She was known as Sister Yvonne
Heffernan. I spent some very precious hours in her company while I
tried to help out in the Matthew Talbot In Sydney. I have spoken about
this in the book I self-published about part of my life.
I wrote a book of poems, and I dedicated this one to her.

                      Sister Yvonne Heffernan
                    This lady of the Matthew Talbot is,
                              so lovely and divine,
                        has touched the hearts of many.

                     Her master-stroke of wisdom is
                          that wonderful sincere Smile,
                                 that universal reflection
                               touched by the hand of God.

                                And when they see her coming,
                                   their eyes light up with joy
                                for so few can understand them
                                   like Sister Yvonne Heffernan,
                                      that everlasting shining star.

Then to top up that beautiful subject on the Smile, I was given an item
to run my eyes over, so I will share this with you as well. Who knows
what it might bring out of Its depths.

                                       Airport Musings (1)
The fairy lights shimmer above. Christmas is in the air, even though the temp is
35 degrees. Still the children’s faces light up when Santa passes by, placing lollies
in their eager hands.

Yet, I am invisible. I sit alone, no different, yet the same as every other traveller,
clutching their hand luggage close for fear of losing the most vital part of their
identity. I can sit here noticing, but not noticed. people look, people watch, but no
eye contact is made. Unless you Smile.

The smile can change the world. Can make someone’s day. why don’t people smile
more freely? It doesn’t take much - a twitch of the muscles, to light up the eyes, and
then the Soul.

Some people have the knack. My grandmother was one, always smiling, always
chatting to all and sundry - at the bus stop, in the grocery shop, at the doctors
surgery, just wherever she happened to be, she would light up the lives of whoever
she smiled at. The people in this airport terminal could really take a lesson from her.
Most are engrossed in their own families, husbands and wives either happy, or
stressed, tut-tutting at each other, trying to control their offspring who are both
excited and overtired to be at a busy airport terminal.

For those traveling solo it is a different space. We are the invisible ones, we have no
rights. So I try an experiment. I smile at anyone and everyone. The reaction is mixed.
Some look at you as if you have escaped from an Institution. But others, just a few,
will smile back, and then the whole world tips slightly. It’s not such a bad place after
all. I am no longer invisible. I have my place alongside all the other weary travelers.
I have a right to be here. I belong…

                                   Airport Musings (2)
I once instigated the conversation. Don’t ask me why. I don’t usually! Normally
I travel incognito, unnoticed and invisible. But this one time fate took a hand and
gave me a nudge in the back. The result was extraordinary. Rather than being
invisible I suddenly had a traveling companion who was, or appeared to be,
interested in what I had to say. As we sat and waited for the next connection flight
we bantered and laughed in an easy manner and the hours slipped away. Never mind
whether he was married or single, that wasn’t the intention. It was just to connect
with another person and not be invisible. I saw him one more time at the baggage
collection, passed one more comment and we headed off in different directions. The
journey made slighter lighter for having connected with another weary traveler.
Why is that so difficult.

I will finish off my blog so that I can launch it off into the New Year with
A letter I got from The Vatican. Those of you who have been following
blog will have reasonable understanding of what I am about to present  
to you as I disclose the contents of this short letter to you. And anybody
that might seem curious can always have a look at my blog.

No. 323.636

                                                      From the Vatican, 25 November 2016

Dear Mr Robinson,

        His Holiness Pope Francis has received your letter, and he has asked
me to thank you. He appreciates the concerns which prompted you to
write to him.

    His Holiness will remember you and your children in his prayers.
Invoking upon you the healing love of Our Lord Jesus Christ, he sends
his blessing.

                                                     Yours sincerely.
                                                     Monsignor Paolo Borgia

Later in the next week or so, I will send a very sincere letter of thanks
in response to that very welcome letter from His Holiness Pope Francis
from the kind hand of Monsignor Paolo Borgia. And I will post it on my
blog for all the world to see, should they care to do so.

So on this last day of 2016 here in New Zealand, I would like to wish the
whole world a very Happy New Year, as I believe no stone should be left
un turned to in some way try and heal what wounds we can for our fellow
human beings.
Terry Robinson    

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