Remembering different times at the mission school.

For the Father ( God ) Himself loves you because you love Me ( Jesus) and have believed that I came out from God. I came from the Father ( God) into the world, and am in the world: I leave the world and go to the Father.

John 17 : 27, 28 (Jesus was talking to people while He was here on earth and tells us where He is now. Jesus is with His Father God)

Mom’ s sister , her family and our Gran and Gramps lived in the bush about an hour’s drive from our home. We saw them when Mom decided to persuade Dad to go visit. Her timing was sometimes surprising, as we would be on the way to the Motopas when she would be heard to say ” I would love to see my Mom”. Words then poured out from both of them and Dad would take the necessary turn.

Our road to the mission included a low level bridge. If the low level bridge over the Gwaai(the name we always gave it) was flooded Mum would then hitch up her dress ,offer to walk across the Gwaai and prove to Dad that his precious spark plugs would not get wet. Her confidence was amazing! I wasn’t worried about her at all… now just thinking of the possibilities of her being swept away and the crocodiles makes me cringe. They were young parents.

Once at the mission , we hugged our family and entered the kitchen through its screen door. Strong smells of yeast from dough rising and crusty golden buns baking, mixed in the warm air with the detol they used to wash all the floors. My aunt was kind, strict and there for us. I often took an overnight bag if I knew we were going to visit and I would stay the night.

The bush wars were part of our lives and we children knew that if alerted we were to pull our mattresses into the broad passage. My cousins sometimes chose to sleep in their parents’ room but I never had to, and we felt safe. However, a couple were murdered on the lower Gwelo mission. This was tragic for their two sons at boarding school and unsettling for all missionaries.

One night while sleeping in a room with Jen and Vivian, my cousins a little older than me, I started to whimper in pain. Aunty Yvonne, her ears well tuned to children was there with a flash light .

Yes, there was a lump like a towering volcano red and angry on my back.

“A boil ” she said. “We are going to town first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Morning please come soon! Help must come !” My mind cried out!

Then after ages on the road, sitting straight up so as not to touch the seat with my protrusion, I was home . Mum was immediate with her treatment. Reckitts blue and elastoplast on top of the swelling, with a little pill for me, to kill the pain. Then after what seemed ages…

A maggot crawled out to get some air!

Certain Flies in Africa lay eggs on clean washing hanging on the line. Everything has to be carefully ironed to kill the eggs which if left on the clothes enter the skin, turn into maggots and eat the flesh .