We are, all of us, from time to time blessed with wonderful people about us.. I would like to share some of mine. In the past I have alluded to my father being killed fighting a bush fire. It was 1967, Much of Southern Australia was in drought. My father was a returned WW2 serviceman, with some war injuries, particularly a ruptured eardrum which affected his balance to a degree. He was also the secretary of the local fire brigade and the local “go to” bloke.. A small fire had started at the local rubbish tip, and been put out.. it had flared up and the local council had called the BFB (ie dad) who had gone and got the old blitz fire truck from the council depot to put out the small grass fire. That was at mid day.. No one thought to go and find him until about 5:00 pm.. The truck had rolled, probably when he was backing up a hill. He had been thrown out and the truck rolled over him.. he had been on the side of the hill for hours. Dad was hospitalised for about 10 days, and seemed to be recovering, then suddenly died after 10 days. My mother had been in Sydney at the time of the accident, having just had a mastectomy, and radiation treatment. She was actually flown from Sydney by air ambulance to Wagga base hospital and discharged from there.. This sets the scene: It was November, shearing time. Dad was hospitalised, Mum was with him, and very ill herself.. Seemingly without organisation, our property was mustered, the sheep taken to a neighbours large shed, shorn, wool pressed, sheep drenched and back in the paddock... No one would take a penny shearers, shed hands as well as the neighbours just chipped in and did it for someone in need. Maybe for the neighbours, being self employed and being pretty close friends, it wasn’t spectacular, but for the shearers and rouseabouts giving up a few days pay was no small thing... we could never even find out who was involved. Subsequently my mother ran the farm for three years.. there is no way she could have done it without the assistance of Ray, a very special neighbour. Ray had his own farm to run, and wasn’t in good health himself, but whenever something major was happening, or the heavy regular chores needed doing, he was there. He would never even accept lunch. Following my mother’s death I went to a boarding school, and in the normal oblivious teenage way got through the years of my adolescence.. it was only many years later that I realised how much so many people put themselves out to help me in those years.. everything from a place to stay at holiday time, to arranging my finances, to giving me the love and support I desperately needed but probably didn’t appreciate. After School I struck out on my own, doing it for myself! But in retrospect there seem to have been a awful lot of dinner invites, good advice and opportunities that came my way.. probably not all because I was brilliant :O. Many of these people are now gone, and others are very elderly, but I feel very strongly that if I can help someone else, I am paying them back. Fast forward more than thirty years. Our family has experienced some shocking upheavals, culminating in physical attacks and our home being destroyed.. we relocated some 750 km, and some wonderful people helped us in so many many ways.. From gifts of gear and equipment, loans of horses, social support even money. (Though I never cashed the cheque..I have it still) . Wonderful people all, and if you read this you know who you are. I consider myself blessed that I have, as well as my fantastic family, so many other people that have found it worthwhile to unselfishly help when it was needed. Lets hear it for those special people.
Posted on: Wed, 29 Oct 2014 07:22:40 +0000
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