My Granddaughter

I marvelled at the little sleeping face, so troubled before my story. The hand lost in mine was now relaxed as she dreamed of the fairy coaches drawn by magical dragon flies.

The weight of the world had been on her mind. So young to be asking why a man would beat his wife and then turn on his children; why some people die in an earthquake and some survive through sheer miracles. She has not been a beaten child, rather the opposite; but the effect on her is the same as if she had. She plays music to soothe the world and is hurt when yet another disaster or tragedy takes place. As she grows so does her passion for her music; it becomes her solace. Like a tiny seed she stretches out her roots for sustenance and her place in the world; her leaves are tempted out of their casing to explore and the flower is forming to blossom all too soon for me - but not for her.   

On Private School Education

Yes, we were privileged. We had great places to go in the holidays and some weekends. There was always an end in sight, relief from the drudgery, excursions to go on, activities at school, musical choral evenings, prayer meetings, church. My education flourished in areas other than academic.

In retrospect, I am amazed that parents from such wealthy and luxurious background put their children into such institutions. It is designed to teach great lessons for them to carry forth into life. Austerity, servitude and humility may indeed be valuable tools to carry forth but stark conditions, bulky food and suppression of the spirit can be supplied to children by many institutions, but these parents do so by choice and pay top fees for it and expect gratitude for the sentence.