Blog ..Blogue
News from SouthWest ..Des nouvelles du Sud-Ouest
Steve and Aline have been staying in, working from home, and doing little projects around the house. I cropped the picture (taken from a good six feet away) so you could read their sign: Peace be with you.
Judy would want me to tell you that she has been very good and staying home, but Wednesday was such a beautiful day that she took a walk and passed by the church. i just happened to be there working so we had a safe-distance chat.
An e-mail arrived recently from Bryan Warnock, whose family lived two doors down from the church on Clemenceau street and were active members of CPU for many years. He sent the black-and-white photos below, identifying as many people as he could. His best guess is that they were taken in 1968. I think the date might be slightly earlier as there doesn’t appear to be wood paneling on the walls yet, and that went up in 1967.
Bryan writes, “I lived at 1425 Clemenceau beside the manse from 1952-1970. In 1973 my wife and I bought the house behind the church at 1454 Lloyd George. We lived there until 1980 when I was transferred to Moncton NB. I taught Sunday school for many years before being the superintendent of the Sunday school. My wife rented the basement for several years for her ballet school.”
Bryan later sent several colour photos, also taken in the church hall, which we think date from 1979, and the occasion of the burning of the mortgage on the Crawford Park United building, which is now SouthWest. Scroll down to see them all.
Thank you Bryan!
As always, let the office know if you can identify anyone else in the photos.
Bryan identifies: at centre was Rev. Dawson MacDonald, to HIS left - Mrs Bowes-Lyon (she lived on Clemenceau) and to his far right was Grant Sutherland who used to live on Crawford Bridge.
Bryan identifies: Helene Augustine (my sister in law), Gail Warnock (my sister), Jean Warnock (my mother), Charlotte “Lottie” Bowes-Lyon (her husband was related to Queen mother). Lady serving coffee is Louise Smith, wife of Marvin, who was church organist for many years.
Rev. Dawson MacDonald and his wife. He was the Minister of CPU from 1957 to 1971, but we believe this picture was taken later, probably 1979.
Rev. MacDonald, Rev. Barratt (supply minister 1979-80) and Harold Grace, who was a scout leader in the church and a long time active member. He lived on Ouimet street on the other side of the green space beside the Anglican Church (now the Sikh temple). Don’t know who the people in the background are. Anyone?
Bryan Warnock says the lady in the neck brace at the far left is Mrs. Harold Grace, the tall gentleman at far right talking to two ladies is Marvin Smith, who was the church organist for about the same period that Rev. Dawson was the Minister. Behind Marvin and to the left are Mr. and Mrs. Bullock. The lady at centre in a pale pink dress and a hat is Mrs. Ackerman (Agnes).
Lately I find myself in a state of “what day is this”?
Days, which were once so organized and followed a specific order and life time of assigned names, have now become “today, yesterday, the other day, someday, that day, any day, tomorrow”. In fact, to be sure, I have started to pick up The Gazette and check the upper right-hand corner, just to make sure. They seem to all run one into the other with no specific or allotted time frame.
This has led me to ponder beginnings and endings. As I look out the window (something I find myself doing a lot on what ever day it may be), I realize, with great clarity, that one season is ending, blending into a new season.
The color of the sky has, without much notice in all the other stuff going on, changed from an icy grey-blue to a warmer tone of blue, ending with sunsets of pink and gold.
The trees have begun to look just a little different with small buds showing…but they too “began” and now seem to be stuck somewhere “in between” as the days have not fully warmed enough to proceed to the next phase. There are no signs of green yet, but you can sense branches beginning to welcome new growth.
As we slowly enter our seventh week of “isolation”, we too are waiting. Waiting for an ending, or a beginning to happen in our own lives.
As we wait in that “in between” zone, now might be a good time to take yet another sigh or deep breath and reflect on all the beginnings and endings which have happened in our life times. It’s a good time to remind ourselves of all the days and seasons we have moved through over the years. So many beginnings and endings.
As we have tried to fill our waiting time as productively as possible, something has begun - perhaps without much notice. Spring has come. And there will be a summer and a fall and, yes, another winter. More beginnings and endings.
It is time to ask ourselves what we have learned during this waiting period? And, of more importance, what can we bring into our lives when the waiting ends?
T.S. Eliot in “Little Gidding” (see note) summed up endings and beginnings as follows:
“What we call the beginning is often the end
and to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from”.
I wish us all well as we move through this “somewhere” time. Let us do it with awareness and intention. Let us honor our own steps. And may we all find peace as we end and as we begin.
Pastor Beryl
Note: Little Gidding is the fourth and final poem of T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets, a series of poems that discuss time, perspective, humanity, and salvation. It was first published in September 1942 after being delayed for over a year because of the air-raids on Great Britain during World War II and Eliot's declining health.
Watch Pastor Beryl’s service here:
“The sighs too deep for words”. Said so eloquently by the United Church Moderator, Richard Bott.
It has been yet another week of: what? Tuesday saw sun, rain, hail, snow and strong gusts of wind. It seemed the only things missing were fire and brimstone and, of, course, locusts. Of course, I am trying to find some humor in a week which continues with the Covid-19 pandemic and then exploded into the most horrific news out of Nova Scotia, and continues as I write.
So many people are asking “why would a loving God let such things happen?” or, “where is God in all of this?” Legitimate questions in light of all that is happening in our world today, and has happened so often throughout history. I do not have an answer for you, other than to say I do believe that, when we weep, God weeps with us. When we hurt, God hurts with us and, on the other side of the coin, when we rejoice and celebrate, there God is also. We are not alone.
These words may ring hollow to so many right now. But, we do not know the mysterious working of God, nor can we ever grasp the reasons. That is what faith is about. And yes, it is okay for faith to waver at times. And it is also okay to turn away and blame God. God has big shoulders and can handle it all.
So, today, I would like to share with you some words adapted from the writings of Stephanie Zamora. They may be raw, but they are real. And, they may be the only words that can be said or make any sense at all right now.
“We tell each other it will be okay... because we don't know what else to say, and we don't know how to climb into the sh*t with someone and just hold their hand while they cry or scream or rage it out.
I'm not going to tell you it's going to be okay. That everything is going to work out. I'm not going to tell you it will be fine or to buck up. That you've got this and you'll see it soon.
Instead I'm going to tell you that I see your pain (God sees your pain). I understand how much it sucks right now. How your heart is heavy and your spirit is weary. How it's taking everything you have just to get through the day. I see you (God sees you). I feel you (God feels you). I love you (God loves you). I know. I get it, I really do. And I also know exactly how much willpower it takes to not punch someone in the face for telling you it will be okay. Especially when it feels like "being okay" is completely out of reach, no matter how hard you fight to find your footing and dig your way out of the darkness that's nearly consuming you. I see your pain (God sees your pain) and I'm holding you in my heart with all the love I have to give. Because it's okay that everything is not okay right now.
I'm going to tell you that you're stronger than you know. Because you are, my friend. You are powerful beyond measure whether you know it or not. You have purpose and a contribution for this world that only you can make. I know it doesn't feel like it when all you can do is find a way to get yourself out of bed each morning, when the hours begin to weigh on your chest like a ton of bricks and breathing becomes more difficult the longer you're forced to be awake and upright. But you're doing it, love. It may not be at a rate or pace that you want, but you're doing it. Just by getting out of bed and finding a way through the next moment that smacks you in the face. And you're stronger than you give yourself credit for.
I'm going to tell you that trust and faith go a long way. I've never tried to pretend that trust and faith are easy. They're not. Not even a little bit. But they are all we have when nothing is okay and everything is falling apart. They are all we have to make it through to what's next. Trust and faith. It's all we have, and they go a very long way when everything feels impossible.
I'm going to tell you that you're not alone. Even though I know it feels that way, like you're the only person in the history of the world who has experienced this much loss and pain and struggle. Even the most happy and successful people have been through some sh*t, or are probably walking through their own storms right now.
You're not alone. You do not have to do this alone. If ever there was a thing that lifted me out of the depths of grief, it was being reminding that I wasn't alone. That I didn't have to do this alone. You, my friend, are not alone. (God goes with you)
I'm going to tell you that I love you. (that God loves you). Because you're here and you're having a bad day. Because you're human and that makes you beautiful and messy and all things lovable.
I love you. (God Loves you) and you've got this.
For now, if it is the only thing we can do, let our gifts to each other be words of peace, acts of kindness and thoughts of love.
Beryl
I’ve got a few more smiling faces for you this week. I got to chat with all of these people, always from at least six feet away. There are many I can’t visit because they are locked down in residences or live far away., but if anyone out there wants to share a selfie with us, I’d be delighted to run in it a future newsletter!
Stay safe everyone.
George and Sue O’Reilly posed in front of their rainbow window.
Linda W. stopped by to borrow books from the church library.
Sheila and Maurice came out on their verandas with a tape measure to make sure social distancing was maintained!
You may have received this booklet in the mail but if so it was probably in French. Douglas Hastie shared this English version with us and we’re sharing it with you!
You can also visit this website for more up-to-the-minute information: Quebec.ca/coronavirus
Pastor Beryl wants us to be able to sing along to the hymns in her service this Sunday, so we are attaching them here. You can print or download them to desktop before Sunday. All are from Voices United, so if you happen to have a copy at home you can just use that. The numbers are:
One of the toughest things about the social isolation that many of us are practicing is not seeing the faces we’re used to seeing. Last week I hand-delivered a few newsletters and mostly just put them in mailboxes, but in the few cases where I did see and speak to the people, I realized how strange it had been not seeing these familiar faces! This week I decided to pay short visits to a few SouthWest people - maintaining a safe distance at all times - and ask if I could take their pictures.
To those of you who are alone and not getting out: your church family has not forgotten you. We’re here to help if you need anything. I know the phone has become a lifeline for many people who live alone, and I encourage you to keep reaching out to each other. In the meantime, below are a few familiar SouthWest faces.
Remember a few years back when the choir would perform songs from the Second World War as a Remembrance Day event? It’s those songs that are going through my head these days: There’ll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover, or this one:
We'll meet again
Don't know where, don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day
Keep smiling through
Just like you always do
'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away
So will you please say "Hello" to the folks that I know
Tell them I won't be long
They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go
I was singing this song
We'll meet again
Don't know where, don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day.
-Amy
(Click on the picture to go to the next one)
Dennis & Dorothy came down to their lobby to wave hello; Benita on her front step; Sandy MacKenzie and June Jardine in the lobby of the building they both live in; Helen and Donald Cameron posted this one on Facebook so I’m sharing it with you; Shirley Robinson who is in lockdown at the Cavalier in LaSalle got her activities director there to take her picture in full “Red Hat Mama” gear!
