Thursday, July 30, 2020

Sixty Years Ago in NZ...





Anne Renouf - middle row - second from left
Auckland NZ, 1960
(from the Renouf archives)


A good snapshot stops a moment from running away.
- Eudora Welty



My memory has been nudged.

It's funny, isn't it?
There I was, doing a bit of research into the place where I began my schooling. 
(It was only later on that I realized that it was exactly sixty years ago.) 
What I turned up was quite astonishing.  
But I need to back up a bit...

When I was four and a half, my family moved from Toronto to Auckland NZ. We sailed from Vancouver in January 1960. Six months later I started school - June 30 1960,
 the day I turned five.

I mentioned my early schooling in a previous blog post, and while writing it, wanted to be clear about the order of nuns who taught at the school - St. Joseph's Orakei.
(The Brigidine Order, as it turns out.)
To my delight, the school still exists and has quite an excellent website, with a section entitled 
'Our History'.

I clicked on 'Our History', only to see a photo of the three nuns who ran the school in the early days - 
Mother Damian, Mother Veronica and Mother Tarsisius. 
A few more clicks to a couple of historic school photos, and up pops one of a First Communion class, with my clearly recognizable seven-year-old sister, Kit,
 in the very front.
(See below.) 



Was I imagining things? 
I peered at the image for some time, as it really seemed too extraordinary. 
I enlarged the photo, examining it carefully. 
Yes, that is Kit, front right. 
And then, scanning the very back of the photo, I see myself, in a crinolined party dress, (that perhaps I insisted on wearing), restrained by my mother's arms (also easily recognizable), and looking totally in awe of the ceremonial breakfast. 

Is it extraordinary?
In the (more than) sixty year history of this tiny school on the other side of the world, there are three photos of students in the early years.
Hundreds of children must have gone through this school.
Three Renouf siblings - Simon, Kit, Anne, 
(our eldest brother Andy went to a different school, our youngest brother Pat wasn't born yet), attended for less than a year and a half. 
I mean, what are the chances?


More photos, (these from the Renouf archives), below:

St. Joseph's Orakei students, 1960



The Brigidine nuns,
Mother Veronica, Mother Tarsisius, Mother Damian



Simon, Kit, Anne, 1960



109 West Tamaki Road, Auckland


Postscript:


 I remember the photo of the entire student body being taken. 
I liked the girl to my left - I think her name was Christine.
I was in Primer One (pronounced 'primmer'), and Mother Damian was my teacher.


Things I loved: 
Hot meat pies, guavas, swapsies, Ladies Bay, One Tree Hill, Smog (our cat),
 'White Coral Bells'


My mother kept in touch with Mother Veronica, (Kit's teacher), a dear wonderful lady,
for the rest of her life.


White Coral Bells
(Traditional Children's Song)

White Coral Bells
Upon a slender stalk
Lilies of the valley grace my garden walk
Oh don't you wish that you could hear them ring?
That will only happen when the fairies sing.




Tuesday, July 28, 2020

I Left You A Feather...


"Hope" is a thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

-Emily Dickinson


...a feather on the breath of God.

-Hildegard von Bingen



I left you a
Feather !

love, Alexis



While out briefly one afternoon, two of our little-uns dropped by with their mother, in order to leave the grand-dog with us for a sleepover. We were sorry to miss them, (the humans that is... we got to see the dog), but the upside was finding this,
the perfect note. 
(See above.)

We love feathers around here, (it has become a bit of a game), and of course the creatures to which they were once attached... our regular birdfeeder visitors:
blue jays, sparrows, doves, blackbirds
And the not quite as regular:
cardinals, grosbeaks, warblers, robins,
and sometimes even Canada geese...

The bully blue jays, or as we call them, blockheads (a 'Gumby' reference), are like a gang in the Spring and early Summer, swooping down on others and causing minor disturbances in the bird world in order to pig out on the seed all for themselves, often shedding a feather or two in the process. 
These beautiful (detached) feathers are great for art-making, such as
 dream-catchers, mobiles, wall hangings, and any mixed media art.

Farther afield, (in our quieter, lonelier, more spacious top field), it is not uncommon to come across a wild turkey feather, a feather especially coveted for its 'Harry Potter' uses.
(See below.)


                                    

But more than being useful, there is just something about finding a feather.

I remember singing about feathers as a small child - feathers and angels -
a song from my earliest childhood. 
In my first year of school, (begun on my fifth birthday), I was taught by one of the Brigidine sisters at St. Joseph's, Orakei in Auckland NZ. 
I faintly remember songs and prayers, and 'swapsies', (my collection of religious stickers),
 and something to do with
feathers and angels.
I can almost hear it, in my far away not-quite-forgotten past:

When feathers appear, angels are near.

Hildegard von Bingen, 12th century German abbess, writer, composer, philosopher and visionary knew a bit about feathers too.

The feather flew, not because of anything in itself but because the air bore it along. 
Thus am I "A feather on the breath of God.."

 I have no trouble buying into it, the spiritual aspect of feathers.
 I so want a feather to be a sign. 
Maybe a sign of strength or wisdom, or that someone in the heavens is thinking of us.
Perhaps it is true that a feather connects us with our ancestors.
As it flutters gently to the ground, perhaps it is carrying a message.
A message of hope, (a thing with feathers), as Emily Dickinson muses...
perching in my soul.

Or perhaps it carries a message of love,
a message which may be a special delivery from a great, great grandmother.
 A gift of love, 
(just like the gift of love written on a scrap of paper by an eight-year-old in July 2020
with feather attached), 
 Perhaps the message is saying,

I left you a feather.
Love.