“Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathom’d caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”
– Thomas Gray, An Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard.
THERE WERE NOT OFFICIAL REPORTERS PRESENT, but mourners had their own means to report. There were no cameras present, but each pamphlet handed out bore the picture of a beautiful woman at peace with herself in her youth. There were no flowers, but the chapel was decorated by the myriad of skin colours of people of all walks of life who had come into contact with my friend Sheila.
Sheila did not blush unseen. Her work with a multitude of organisations forbade that. Certainly she was a flower whole blush and was appreciated by many throughout the Caribbean and beyond. Neither did she waste her sweetness on the desert air. No, not my friend Sheila.
The service of thanksgiving at the Coral Ridge Chapel commenced with a eulogy of recall of the various memories of encounter that Sheila brought to the world, to people that she had met along the way, to her family, to her friends and to those who loved her and whom she loved. Messages came from people in all quarters, from friends starting from when she was a youth. The eulogy tribute was lengthy but it held the attention to hear of the many souls that her life had touched from all parts of the world and in so many places, from Belize to Kenya.
After the tributes from nieces bearing regrets from abroad of those who could not be present, a lady by the name of Kellie Cadogan approached the microphone. The opening chords of accompaniment commenced and she proceeded to entertain us with an unforgettable rendition of My Way. Her voice was powerful and effortless. She captured each phase of the song in a melodic enchanting way that gave Sheila’s meaning to the life she lived. Her voice made one recall the steely resolve of that tribute delivered earlier recalling Sheila’s journey through life. It brought tears to the eyes of the Wild Coot (and tears do not come easily). In fact, he resolved that when he died he would somehow get a message to the lady to sing the same song for him. The congregation applauded – an unusual thing in a solemn gathering.
Then spoke Canon Joseph Hennis. He referred us to the reading for the celebration – I Corinthians 13:4-13: “Charity suffereth long and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up . . . rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; . . . when I became a man I put away childish things . . . and now abideth faith, hope and charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”
Perhaps our politicians should read and practise the sentiments of this frequently referred to passage of Scripture. It is a passage very familiar to the Wild Coot from his days with the Closed Brethren. Paul was exhorting the Corinthians to embrace charity in their dealings with one another. I believe that the goodly priest was moved to refer to this passage as he listened to the many tributes accorded to Sheila by the previous speakers. In his sermon he appealed to the congregation to treat the life of Sheila as an example of how we should deal with one another.
There was a tenacity to the way Sheila stuck to her view. It was “her way”. But that did not deny charity as many who came under her hospitality could witness.
Canon Hennis also stressed in his celebration the love that we should have for one another. This got the Wild Coot’s attention because on these occasions, a favourite topic is the perils that await us if we are bound for hell. He did not even mention judgment. Only love. He did not call on the audience to repent of any sins. He spoke of love. Sheila must have been listening. Finally, he commended her soul to eternity and the funeral parlour attendant sent her on her way to a fiery earthly end.
In a way it was an anti-climax. There was no ferrying the coffin to a prescribed site. We did not gather around a hole in the earth. No clumps of earth echoed as they drove home the finality of our loved one’s disappearance with workmen sweating profusely to hasten their work before six o’clock. No, Sheila Leslie John disappeared into the rear section of the chapel never to be seen again. The Wild Coot had lost a sounding board for his ideas.
Incidentally, around the same time of Sheila’s death, it was announced that scientists had discovered “gravitational waves”, an ability to see billions of miles into the atmosphere. Are we on the way to find Heaven? Only asking.
• Harry Russell is a banker. Email quijote70@gmail.com