Author: Carol Purves

Another writers’ meeting means another afternoon of fun.  How could the subject of ‘weddings’ bring forth such varied writing?  One lady wrote about the marriage at Cana from a waiter’s point of view, another told of a wedding she had been invited to after she had been a help to the couple.  Several members wrote about their own wedding and we had a wedding story with a twist.

Then members had to work again.  We were given an opening sentence and asked to continue it in just five minutes.- ‘I always knew…’,  ‘If only…’, ‘ As the mist cleared, I saw  ….’, ‘As the train gathered speed, I suddenly remembered….’.  The results were clever, scary, ridiculous  and enlightening.

Carol, not a wedding guest.

What could I call it?  A Garden Party was too grand; the garden is small, royalty would not be present and hats are a no go.  Nor was it a Tea Party, coffee and soft drinks were also available and one does think of the ‘Mad Hatter!’

Any rate, neighbours and friends were invited round for a ‘whatever’.  The chosen Saturday afternoon was fine, patchy sun, whispy clouds and a moderate breeze.  The next problem I faced, should I have this gathering indoors or outdoors.  Outdoors won.

Good food, good fellowship and a time out to relax.  What more could anyone want?

Carol, the hostess.

The great advantage of having visitors to stay is being able to show them the beauties of the Lake District.  My visitors arrived during a week of exceptionally good weather.  Of course we did do some sun-bathing but we also explored the area.

Every day we had a picnic and this year they were not eaten in the car!   On one day we went on the Carlisle/Settle Railway as far as Skipton. Another day we explored the coast, Silloth and Allenby, with the obligatory  ice-cream.  To avoid the seasonal crowds we went up the Eden Valley to visit such places as Armathwaite, Kirk Oswald, Lazonby and Langwathby.

It’s now back to routine, catching up on gardening, shopping and cooking.

Carol, out and about

The C.C.W. meets again.  This time with the homework being ‘It made me laugh’, I can certainly report it was a very happy occasion.  One member brought along a booklet of drawings and jokes published in India.  As the book was passed around, controlled laughter broke forth from various parts of the room.

The Biblical story was narrated where Sarah laughed on hearing the news that she was going to give birth, while another offering contained the wonderful alliteration ‘lazy laughter lingered everywhere.’  and the question was submitted ‘Do animals ask if humans laugh?’

We were offered the quote ‘If you’re going to laugh about it tomorrow, you might as well laugh about it today.’   Quite a fun afternoon, especially as we gained yet another new member.

Carol, in a non-serious mood.

Mary felt called to be a missionary in Calabar, an area which is now West Nigeria.  Her first impressions of the country were vivid.

As Mary gazed in front of her she spied dozens of mud huts with what seemed like thatched roofs whose palm fronds quivered in the breeze.  Long legged cranes and pelicans eyed the passengers warily while man-eating crocodiles slid off their mud-banks in the murky water.

Suddenly Mary screamed ‘What’s that?’ she stammered  as she saw a six foot long snake beast slithering along the slipway.

‘It’s only a monitor lizard,’ a sailor informed.

This was only the beginning of her adventures; she soon faced heathen warriors intent on harming her, killers of baby twins who thought the babies were devil controlled, ritual killing of widows and slaves as well as the other hazards of the jungle.

To read more go to Amazon – From Jute to Jungle – Carol Purves.  I trust you will have a good read and realize again the power and dominion of God.

Carol

Mary, now aged ten, had a playful disposition.  She found new friends, lively, but no too wild.  One of their favourite games was to knock on people’s doors and then run away.  Mary and her friends were the bane of Dundee housewives.  As she said in later life ‘I little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.’  Not all would have agreed.

One day she caught the eye of an old woman who had ‘an eye for sin.’  She called Mary and some of her friends into the cottage.  Suddenly the woman grabbed Mary’s hand and held it near the blazing fire

‘D’ye see that! I you were to put your hand into the flames they’d burn you sore.  Repent from your sins or you will blaze in the flames of hell for ever and ever.’

Terrified Mary tore her hand away and rushed home to throw herself down on her bed.

‘What can I do?  I’m a sinner.’  She sobbed, ‘I repent, I repent, I do believe.’

She sobbed herself to sleep and temporarily lost her gaiety.  this was not the best way to convict someone of their sins but from that day Mary determined to serve her Lord with all her being as long as she lived.

more to follow  …………………….

While Mary was still in single figures and Robert sixteen, he was taken ill with a hacking cough.  Day and night he coughed and seemed to grow worse.

‘Please God heal Robert so he can be a missionary for you,’ Mary earnestly prayed.

But Robert grew weaker and suddenly died.  He died of consumption for which there was no cure at that time.

Broken-hearted, Mary cried ‘I’ll tak, his place on the mission field.’

‘Don’t be silly, it’s a job for a man,’ said Mrs Slessor as she began to make plans for her second son John to go to the mission field.

The tragedy of his son’s death became took much for Bob, he drank more and more and was fired from his job.  Feeding the family was so difficult, but it was Bob who came up with a solution.

‘Let’s make a fresh start.  I’ve heard there are jobs in Dundee and then I’ll be away from my drinking friends.’

‘Yes, but what about my friends?’ moaned Mrs Slessor

Somehow they managed to pay off their debts and made the move to Dundee to a ‘single end’.  About 30,000 people lived in these inferior dwellings where the streets were open cesspits and the smells overpowering.  Bob managed to find work and Mrs Slessor went to work in a jute factory.  Things seemed better for the Slessor family, but how long could it last.

more to follow …………….

Bob, Mary’s father, an easy-going, slightly bald, man lived for Saturday which was pay-day.  This was his time of glory.

‘Hi, Bob, come and have yourself a drink with your friends.’  He was greeted with warmth and camaraderie and feeling generous, more drinks followed, mostly bought by him; while his head became heavier his pocket became lighter.

At last it would be time to return home.  Mrs Slessor would be waiting anxiously with her family by her side.  She knew what to expect; it was a regular occurrence.  As Bob lurched through the doorway she quietly inquired, ‘Before you start your meal, have you any money from your wages for me?  I need to buy more food for the family.’

‘Money, money, money.  That’s all you think about.  Do you begrudge me relaxing with my friends? Her take this.’  He threw down on the table all that remained from his week’s wages.  Mrs Slessor knew she couldn’t feed the family for a week on that.

But without fail on a Sunday morning she prepared herself and her six children for church, dressed in their poor best.  Mrs Slessor had high hopes of Robert, the eldest becoming a missionary and allowed him to go to school.  Mary was eight.

‘Mother, I want to be a missionary too and go to the black children in Africa.’

‘Girls can’t be missionaries’ scorned her brother.

‘It’s far too dangerous for a woman, her mother warned her, ‘your job is to stay at home and help me look after the family.’

‘At least no-one can stop me dreaming, Mary muttered to herself.’

more to follow …………..

‘We’ll do for you if you don’t leave us alone!’

I’ll not give up on you.  You can do what you like to me.’  The feisty Mary Slessor had an answer for the dark-haired, wiry street lad from Dundee who was taunting her.

She stood her ground as out of her pocket he produced a lump of lead tied to a length of string and swung it round and round her head.  Mary had seen this kind of weapon before but this was the first time she had been threatened with it.

‘I’ll strike a deal with you.  If you swing that lead as near me as you can and I don’t flinch, you must promise to come to the mission with me and then when there you must behave.’

The urchin smirked.  He knew she would soon flinch; she was only a girl anyway.

The bullying lad gradually swung the lead nearer and nearer, the draught of the weight disturbing her ginger ringlets and at one point slightly grazing her forehead.  She couldn’t check if it was bleeding as she never moved though she was definitely quaking inside.  Eventually he gave up, he knew when he was beaten.

‘We can’t force her boys, she’s game.’

‘I’ve not backed down,’ she said ‘Now you can’t back down on me.  Come into the mission.’

Every week the street lads had  seen Mary walking purposefully into Wishart Church hall in one of the poorer parts of Dundee.  They knew she was attending some sort of ‘Christian’ meeting and they thought they could frighten her away but they hadn’t reckoned on her grit and determination.  Now Mary had turned the tables on them.  There was no choice but to reluctantly follow her into the hall.

Years later Mary had on display in her African hut a photo of this lad, his wife and family.  That day in Dundee was a turning point in his life. He started to abandon his wild ways and eventually learned to love the Lord.  The photo was one of the few possessions that Mary still had in hut when she died.

more to follow………..

Things are happening faster than I can blog.  That must be good.  The end of April saw me travelling to Newcastle again to see family but I’m sure the traffic volume increases each visit.

At the beginning of May we had Living Word in Carlisle, that’s like the Keswick Convention in the city.  Great to hear such excellent preaching and also many of my books were sold.

I then had two nights in Scotland for the conference of the Scottish Fellowship of Christian Writers.  The setting at Gartmore was beautiful though isolated.  Too much good food, plenty of Christian fellowship and encouragement for writing.  Again more books sold.

A quick turn about and back to Scotland to help a friend write her life story  My cat  thinks I’ve emigrated.

Carol, up and away