This is the time of the year when I become very thankful and reflective. There are no three months that stir my emotions like November, December and January. This is for both personal and general reasons.
On a personal note, my mum who was born in January, seemed to have planned her life with a focus on this particular time. One of my brothers was born in November and the other in January. My sister and I are the December links, with me getting pride of place as the Christmas baby.
From a general perspective, I bubble with pride every Independence season. Yes, I remember Guy Fawkes Day with the starlights and bombs that my mum just could not afford to provide for us. We were never left wanting, though, as our close knit neighbourhood in Heywoods lived the notion of sharing. Those were the days of struggle, but they helped to build character.
Today, however, November means much more to me. I am totally immersed in anything that promotes nationalism. I love the colours (even prominently displaying them in my vehicle). I even dress in the blue, gold and black as often as I can. I love the music and the food (though not a big conkie fan)! Oh yes, I am glued to every and any parade, at school and certainly on the national stage.
My December excitement is a continuation of my November highs. This is Christmas month and all the biblical stories from my youth at Sunday school consume my thoughts. I remember my many enjoyable days in those classes and what I read and was taught about the Christ child, Mary, Joseph, Gabriel and the wickedness of Herod.
As the many songs capture my every emotion I imagine the stir that Mary would have had when the angel first approached her. I strain my imagination to picture the stable and to appreciate the discomfort of sleeping there on the hay. Our Saviour had started paying for our sins from that early age!
This year, as my thoughts swirl, I visualise how we represent national pride and the true meaning of Christmas – sacrifice, care, forgiveness and generosity! Immediately, I went on my knees and said a prayer of thanks for my former principal, Mr Daryll Jordan.
As a principal, he was the manifestation of national pride, using his intellect, ability and genuine concern to help improve the lives of all who entered the gates of St Lucy Secondary School. He was also the projection of what Christmas should mean. He had little but gave so much; he suffered in pursuit of where his real ability should have taken him, but he accepted his lot and ensured the success of more students and teachers than one can ever remember.
I thank God for his long life as he has now attained the age of eighty. As a young teacher, I was challenged, chastised and chased by Mr Jordan. As I look back at my professional life now on the dusk of my career, I see a significant fingerprint that speaks loudly and uninterruptedly about his influence. I thank you, Sir and wish you all the best on reaching this milestone. May God go with you as you walk tall, Mr Daryll Jordan. Happy Christmas season, Sir!
Jeff Broomes is an experienced educator, principal and community organiser, who also served as a vice-president of the BCA and director of the WICB. Email: unclejeff2@hotmail.com