A Glass Full of Water

My niece Emma, her husband Tau and her son Jack live in a block of 4 townhouses in Auckland. They all love living in a ‘cultural mosaic’. Emma describes her neighbours as ‘so friendly’. Someone is always home so she feels super safe no matter the time of day. Emma has been given baking, curry leftovers, traditional Eid desserts and once a whole frozen chicken. Conversations are always respectful, friendly and reciprocal. One night they had friends over for a rowdy karaoke. They warned the neighbours ahead of time - one replied that she’d let them know the winner in the morning!  The front house has four generations of an Indian family living in it. They have invited Emma and her family over for significant birthdays. The second house is a Palestinian family. Members of this family work for a refugee organisation. The third family is Muslim and they have children in their early 20’s. They are very social and Emma is reassured by their friendly chatter as they walk up and down the sh...

“Hi John!” Val said with a smile as she walked into her mechanics office to get a warrant for the car.  “Hi Val” John replied. The usual hug followed with a wave through the window to Karl as he worked on one of the many cars in the workshop. John works for his son Karl in his mechanics workshop in Hamilton. Lovely Val has been giving bundles of old towels to John since the early 1990’s to use as rags. Sometimes John and his son also get some homemade shortbread made by Val which doesn’t last very long at all! To Val’s delight, at this particular appointment, John handed over a generous amount of free range eggs. “You have always been kind to us with the towels.”  John also gave some eggs to some retirement village residents. He got chatting to them and now egg deliveries are a regular occurrence. He doesn’t want payment, he just loves seeing people receiving his gift. A few weeks ago he gave away eggs to a woman who had parked next to him in a supermarket car park. She offere...

My nephew Ben, his wife Lauren and their three children, Josh, Ruby and Sam have recently returned to the small town of Fairlie in the beautiful Mackenzie District of the South Island. If anyone has had a famous Fairlie pie (Bacon and Salmon, Vegan, Venison and Cranberry to name a few) then you will have tasted a real humdinger.  Ben (on promotion) and his family moved four years ago to a high school in Taranaki. The consuming nature of climbing the promotional ladder and realising that time with family and lifestyle was more important than anything else, they (both Ben and Lauren) applied for and won teaching positions at Mackenzie College.  The community has made their return easy. “Great to have you back” is a common refrain. Ben said, “You can’t go to the supermarket in ten minutes. Everywhere you turn, another conversation will start up.” (My kind of town!).  Staff at school have also been very encouraging and complimentary to them on Ben’s return as Deputy Principal...

I was admiring an artwork in my sister Jenny and brother in law Stuart’s home. Its tactile form invited a gentle touch. “There’s a back story to the artwork,” said Jenny. Intrigued and loving a good story, “Do go on,” I replied.  Jan the artist is a good friend of them both and worked with Stuart at Ormiston Junior College. (Auckland). Students and staff loved his craftsmanship which extended to set designs for school productions and his relaxed, informal teaching.  Jan wanted to celebrate his 70th birthday in a different way… He invited 100 of his friends and family to his art exhibition in Taupo. The not so typical venue was a farm barn. There was plenty of food (including a ‘pig on a spit’) and drinks. People were encouraged to talk about the artworks in small groups. Earnest discussion followed with Jan looking rather chuffed as he watched people enjoying themselves. He then announced, “Go into the barn and choose a piece of art. It’s yours” People momentarily hesitated, u...

  I was watching the 7am TV news, when a moving shape outside our Hamilton home lounge caught my eye. A hooded figure came into view. He was struggling to lift two large bags over a hedge bordering a neighbours property. Quickly realising he was making for the gap between our house and another neighbouring property, I yelled to Val, “Burglar! Burglar!”  I sprinted on to our lawn, intending on cutting the intruder off. Perhaps a good rugby tackle would stop him? It was a great plan with very poor execution as old calf and hamstring injuries came back with a vengeance. Down I went with arms flailing. Val ran inside to ring the police.  At this stage two of our neighbours came out to see what all the early morning yelling was about. Raewyn and Peter looked at my contorted, moaning face. Val and Raewyn couldn’t help themselves and started to giggle.  Two policemen arrived a few minutes later. They tried to be professional, but soon they too were turning their heads away ...

I watched in awe as a massive log twisted upwards in the wind created by a huge fire. The ferocity of flames knows no human bounds.  When I left school my first job was in a forestry gang near Warkworth, north of Auckland. During the fire season we longed for a drink, something to eat and rest in the shade as we wore full length protective gear and wielded flame throwers and diesel burners in the sweltering heat. Ironically and even with that experience, I can only imagine how tough it has been for the Los Angeles fire fighters. We trust they are being well looked after by their colleagues and communities. How good it is to know that a kiwi owned cafe in West Hollywood has been offering free coffees to frontline workers and evacuees of the wildfires. A ‘big ups’ to the Ponsonby Road Cafe and owner Jaime Choi.  Closer to home, a big thanks to volunteers from Matatā and Ōpōtiki (Bay of Plenty, North Island) who provided fatigue stops for weary travellers early in the new year. ...

“I thought you had Ruth!”  “I thought you had her!” To our horror, Val and I realised that our two year old daughter was somewhere by herself on the inter island ferry between the North and South Island of New Zealand. Our catastrophizing thoughts multiplied as we took our older daughters, Rebeccah and Sarah with us to hunt for her. What if she went overboard? What if she wandered into a cabin somewhere? What if we never find her?  I rushed over to the bar to ask a barman if he had seen a little girl wandering past. He ignored me and turned away. Val was going deck to deck frantically calling and looking. Nothing. I went back on the top deck and looked over the side. If Ruth had gone over she wouldn’t have survived the impact and swirling waters of Cook Strait. Keep looking!  We met at the top of some stairs to restart our panicked search and then heard Ruth. She was crying and being comforted by a kind older woman. Never has a hug been so good as relief and joy flooded o...