Being Content in a World War 2 Work Gang
… for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every...
View ArticleThe World As We Knew It
My Father’s Class in the 1920s When I reflect on this photo of my father’s class in the 1920s I marvel and tremble at how much our world has changed; culturally, technologically and especially,...
View ArticleMemories of Church No 1.
Some of my earliest memories centre on Church. In our small migrant community in Ocean Grove during the mid 1950s, our kitchen was the biggest room. So every Sunday the Reformed people would meet at...
View ArticleMemories of Church No. 2 or Coffee, Calvinism and Cigars
Yesterday I started my reflections on growing up in a migrant church in the 1950s. Today the story continues … By my mid teen years we were worshiping in Geelong. This congregation, which was much...
View ArticleMemories of Church No.3 – Methodists and Mayhem
This is part 3 of my early recollections of church. In the mid 1960’s the church to which I now belonged rented a Methodist church that only had a few members left. After a couple of years we purchased...
View ArticleMemories of Church No.4 – Conflict and Conclusions
The last part – for the time being. As I grew up, particularly in my teen years, I began to realise that Christians weren’t perfect and conflict was an inevitable part of church life. It became obvious...
View ArticleUnusual Grace – A Dead Man’s Boots
My dad and fellow workers in WW2. Dad is top left. I have reflected previously on some of my father’s experiences as a conscripted worker in Germany during WW2. (See here) Dutch workers had more...
View ArticleI Have a Violin
Dad’s Violin I have a violin, which may seem strange, as I can’t play a note. Next month I will have had it for 20 years and I still don’t play a note. It is my father’s violin. I say “is” because...
View ArticleSorting Photos
Over the last few weeks I have been sorting through my parents’ photos and putting them into a visual diary. This requires some research: who are they, where was it taken, when was it taken, and so...
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