Travelling alone with our young children.

Joseph took Jesus body down and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his new tomb which he had hewn out of the rock; and he rolled a large stone against the door of the tomb, and then Joseph left. ( Jesus’s body was there all Sabbath.)

Matthew 27: 59 – 60

Our lives were very much routine with friends over for lunch and most of the day on Sabbath. Roy’s company respected this time from Friday evening to sunset Saturday night but the word ‘abort’ ruled any other time of day or night. Computers were new and vast in size and seemingly able to control those who worked with them. Then there was a new word ‘migrate’. This meant that one system was changing to another. An enormous task.

It was then suggested that the children and I should spend some time in Africa with my Mum and Dad. I was very pleased about this as I was finding the long hours with two little ones sometimes lonely and exhausting, especially when one of them wasn’t well.

I think at this time the company even helped contribute to the cost of this trip and I gladly left for Port Elizabeth. Mum and Dad hadn’t seen our youngest son who was now 7 months old and our eldest would now be old enough to make memories with his grandparents. He was three and half.

The trip through the night to Johannesburg was peaceful. The children slept. I too dozed but then for some reason there was a delay when the plane refuelled at Cape Verde off the coast of Africa.

Our arrival in Johannesburg was met by a big hug from my Aunty Esther. The aunt who sewed my sister and I such lovely dresses. She looked terribly worried. We had missed our flight to Port Elizabeth.

“Sandy” she said. ” I will take the children and you go to the information desk and ask where the manager’s office is. Then go and explain to him what has happened.”

I felt really nervous about this, I wondered if I would be told. I asked and I was simply given instructions of how to find it. The old airport had an internal balcony with an open passage which allowed one to look down over the comings and goings of passengers and a simple brown door had the word manager on it. I knocked and after some greetings. I explained why I was there. I think there was an element of surprise for both of us. A not knowing what to expect and a not knowing exactly how to solve the problem.

It was a long weekend the flights were few and full until Tuesday and this was Friday afternoon. He did speak to someone and asked me to wait in the departure area. I no sooner got there when we were allowed to board . I was grateful to my aunty Esther for being there and so pleased to be on that flight.

The flight to Port Elizabeth was through a storm for the early part with a lot of turbulence, but a kind stranger held our baby as I managed to take our three year old to the wash room.

It was good to see the waves and beaches of Port Elizabeth as we flew in and soon the glow of the last rays of the sun on the faces of my dear parents as they stood on the outside airport balcony. I was home with our precious boys.

When you choose to collect experiences rather than things , you will never run out of storage space.

Unknown.

Teaching kids to count is fine, but teaching them what counts is best.

Bob Talbert