I strolled through the graveyard in North Harbour, a place I often like to visit, especially on my way to what we call “Graveyard Mass.” This is commonly held outdoors in the cemetery in celebration of the ones gone before us.
On this
particular hot July evening full of biting bees, about seventy-five people of
all ages gathered for the Mass. As with all things, everyone was invited to the community hall afterwards for a cup
of tea and a chat. This is all part of the coming together as a people
connected by common roots and the people we come from.
We come
from people who worked hard, who fished, who tilled the soil, who built upon
the land, who hunted, who cut wood, who picked berries, who raised animals, and
who stayed. Our people saw more hungry month’s of March than prosperous years.
They had no room for dreams for themselves. They lived meagerly, they saw poor
times, they made do, they cared, they shared, and they looked out for one
another. Our people endured.
We come
from people who bore famine and diseases of poverty, people who experience
loss, tragedy, still births, and young deaths. Our people went to war and came
back less than whole but went on. Our people kept the place alive through
hardship piled on hardship. Our people suffered.
We come
from people who started again; who began to dream; who gathered and who spread
out, who left and who stayed and who returned; who hoped for better for their
offspring, who believed in place, in family, and in love. Our people sang, they
danced, they played music, they played cards, they drank, they smoked, they
worshipped as a community. Our people recovered.
We come
from people who were crooked and jovial, straightforward and honest, kind and
welcoming, sincere and heartfelt, sarcastic and funny, people who didn’t hold
back but didn’t hold grudges. Our people picked others up and didn’t walk over
them. Our people had big families, who spread out and spread out again. We came
from people who planted foundational seeds of something greater knowing they’d
never see the crop thrive but did it anyway because somebody belonged to them
would. Our people instilled.
We come
from people who trudged, and eked, and toiled. Our people knit, and sewed, and
hammered, and nailed. They created, at first because they had to, then because
they wanted to. Our people sacrificed with gratitude, gave with humbleness, divided
with integrity, and lived with pride and happiness for the generations they created.
Our people lasted.
Our people created
people who went on to be community builders and leaders all over the world. The
kind of leaders that were trailblazers, entrepreneurs, teachers, professors, clerics,
nurses, doctors, tradespeople, secretaries, presidents, CEOs, care givers, soldiers,
administrators, seamen, captains, fisher people, and the list goes on. The kind of people that other
people wanted on their teams, in their companies, at their sides. Our people built
good people.
Our people created people they would be proud of. People who returned to honour them and pay respects to their endurance, their fortitude, their suffering, their foundation, and their community. We pay tribute to that North Harbour gene and to being home, be it ever so humble, be it ever so powerful.
We come from people who loved and
we are people who love because of them.
