Sorry for the break if you were/are following.
Settling in a new country, with a new language, and no support yet, was an experience that was both formative and enriched by novelty! My mother’s heritage and our new life in the wild west of colonialism created a tapestry which, for me, preceded Strawberry Field – nothing is real, there’s nothing to get hung about! When the local priest scolded my mother for taking us out of Catholic school and sending us to a state school and threatened her with excommunication, she wrote to a relative (Cardinal in Rome) and mentioned this action, to which she received the response that only the Pope is vested with the power of excommunication. Mother proudly showed this to the priest who then said we are the NZ catholic church, and my mother replied – so you are protestants! This was my first exposure to debate and premises needed to form a conclusion, later to be ingrained through scholarship and more experience. We did not have the funds to pay for private catholic school, but mother’s hind legs challenge and rebuke of her aggressor was a lesson for a young boy, in a hostile environment. She used knowledge with tongue-in-cheek humor. Mother’s ongoing ethic, to lead by example would prove to be an act that needed following, as one saw time and again the resilience not to just accept a position if it needed challenging! Remember this was the 1950’s Single mother! No complaining, nor tittle-tattling to the media and crying foul. She intended to be fair and treat people fairly, thereby teaching me that the intention, grounded in facts, can give you confidence.
Mother’s other major gift, handed on if one chooses to listen to/watch, was to be friendly, smile in the face of adversity, and combat ignorance with acceptance without losing intention or purpose. i.e. do not engage in a standoff but find humor or whatever is at your disposal to find a common ground from which to go another round. Today, we could use this in our Silo political standoffs.
We are all more like Shylock when he asks:
Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die?
From my mother I learnt this, after coming home from school, most concerned at the sternness of my teacher. Gjoko, he wears underwear just like you, so think him no better, nor worse.
As we were living on the beach, and there was a maritime channel between us and a distant (3-mile) island, I decided I wanted to swim out to the buoys and watch the big ships. As I was approaching the buoy, a considerable way out suddenly I was surrounded by a flotilla of boats to “rescue me”. I was alerted to the dangers of such a swim, taken back to shore and inadvertently that event changed the dynamics of our lives in NZ.
Understanding that I was an adventurous mother decided I should get swimming lessons to learn to swim properly. In my first swimming lesson, the trainer saw I was hopeless at crawling but could flip across the pool breaststroke with no worries. He asked me to come to his office after the lesson, which I apprehensively did. He asked, could I swim the length of the “big” pool? I thought no worries. He asked me to dive in and swim as hard as I could. I had no idea how to dive, so I suggested push off and go for it. Good enough. When I was done he told me I could get changed and come to his office “again”. This time a photographer was there and they took a picture and thanked me. I thought all this odd and did not tell Mother what had gone on, as I had no basis from which I felt comfortable. The next day in the sports section of the Daily Paper was my picture with the headline “A Kondrad for New Zealand. I had broken the age group, plus several ahead record by 5 seconds and thereby spotted as a protégée by The Coach.,
Suddenly, the kids who had spat on me and mocked me as “a bloody foreigner” were accepted and the kids wanted to be friends (a scar on my psyche for sure) and mother, who was this foreign-accented woman trying to sell her wares, became “the Mother” of the swimmer. A nice boost to our existence and as Mother said: Sic transit gloria (fleeting is glory) so be kind, be modest, and learn. No one can take knowledge away from you!
So! My knowledge is Honey from Healing ® offers first class products, for use and gifts. Our lip Balm, because it carries Manuka UMF 15+ honey should be called a LIPCARE balm. Not only will it heal your lips if cracked but also keep them moist longer due to the hydroscopic nature of honey. Our flagship: Wound Care: does what it says and more. I recommend it on any broken skin ailments: rashes, cuts, tears, and finally, the ReviveR™ (a true Palindrome) which due to the elongated molecule carrying the salve will not only feed your skin but remain at work for a couple of days.
Thank you for reading and your tolerance of my shameless promotion, but this is my responsibility as the originator of the products. They are my children and have some talent!