I usually wake up early, so it was normal to do so today. As usual, picked up my phone and switched it on. I saw her face and smiled instinctively. Was wondering if the part 4 of her book was out then I saw the lines by my publisher and blinked. Wondering if maybe I was not fully awake, I went to the loo with the phone, my heartbeats increased as I read. My heart dropped and sadness engulfed me.
Vale Grace Chan
by Gerry Huntman
‘One of the profound things I find about our time on this planet is the amazing human capacity to withstand trauma and disease and hold on to their lives, and yet there are many others who pass away too early, often suddenly. There’s nothing mysterious about it, but it can help us refocus on how important it is to make the most of the time we have.
It is with immense sadness that I announce the passing of Grace Chan (Elizabeth Lang) today (27th February 2020) in Regina, Saskatchewan, from complications associated with her very long battle with cancer’.
How do you sing a song when the beat has left the market square and the masquerade does a silent dance? The square is silent and the owl too refuses to leave the tree. There is silence all around and a silent whistle in my spirit.
Elizabeth Lang, author, artist friend walks towards home to the ancients. Names run pictures in my sad mind. I remember our first chat when we talked about the cover picture of my first book with IFWG publishing. Gerry Huntman the publisher had informed me and permitted that I could discuss my ideas with her. I was not sure but soon enough I became a friend of someone I never met physically. A friendship was formed and we would chat whenever we had a chance about my book, her book and so many things that held our interest. I read and reviewed for my blog all her books, that is the Andromedan series. The human concept that underlined her sci-fi, her surprise about the success of the romance in the series as she had not expected such a reaction.
Love conquers pain, the pain of cancer. In my corner of the, we say, Death always needs a reason to take you away. It was time for her to take the next journey and as far as Creationis truly concerned, we should not say death is premature. Whatsoever we sow, we reap, and this is not meant as sanctimonious religious nonsense, but an acceptance that Creation is not arbitrary. I miss the Andromeda series already. I can guess at the conclusion that was supposed to come in part four.
I see the compassion, love and empathy of Elizabeth in the covers she did for my books and my gratitude I hope will be one of the light silks on her path in her journeys as a human spirit.
I could say a thousand things, sing a song at the square and tell the owl to flap more silently.
I can ask the stars to shine more brightly and tell the ancients that a daughter is on her way home. I can feel in the whispers of the dry dust, its own sadness at her departure. I see the sad face of death as it shrugs at me helplessly and points at Cancer as the culprit, I see the smile of Elizabeth at the light in the tunnel that is the gate of Andromeda as she passes.
The story continues but we at IFWG publishing close the page and open it again missing you.
I really had planned to write another post on something else altogether. I came across this information and it became necessary for me to write this post. A man was born 142 years ago today. On the 22nd of February
I was part of his dreams and we never met. I celebrate him today and beyond today. Over a century ago when he landed on terra firma, he probable know of all his dreams. He also probably didn’t know much about communication skills, or teaching anyone how to be a leader.
He had a dream to be a human being I assume, but along his experiences, he saw the essence of communication. Communicating in real terms and negotiating our values about those things that make us human, empathic, and I guess evolving into what the Creator trusted we will become…human beings.
142 years ago one of my heroes was born. Ralph C Smedley
Nearly a century ago, Dr Ralph Smedley had a vision of how he could help you and millions more learn communication and leadership skills in a positive and supportive environment. Toastmasters International became an educational Non- governmental organization which now has branches all over the globe including my state and my club as the premier club in the south-west of my country
In 1965, the Ralph C. Smedley Memorial Fund® (“Smedley Fund”) was established to honour and uphold that legacy, and to open doors for the many millions of potential Toastmasters yet to come.
The dream has grown, and anyone interested in learning about communication skills, leadership skills can achieve that mastery in any Toastmaster club anywhere in the world.
I am inviting you to be part of this dream. We communicate and achieve leadership awareness as we learn what serving, giving and loving is about. We learn what it means to volunteer knowledge, capabilities, to our community and the world at large.
I am inviting you to be a contributor to the Smedley Fund.
The educational needs of individuals have evolved and multiplied. Though the historic fund had humble beginnings with a local impact, the reinvigorated Smedley Fund retains its same purpose—the advancement of communication and leadership education through the research, development, and distribution of educational programs and materials.
Be a contributor
Toastmasters International is a non-profit educational organization that teaches public speaking and leadership skills through a worldwide network of clubs.
Sunshine Toastmasters club is situated in Akure. We hold meetings twice a month, the 2nd and 4th Sunday at B.Dot schools from 4-6pm.
I promise you will enjoy your time with us
I will be expecting you.
When I was in a secondary school in the sixties. Yeah, I said secondary school. Yeah, I am long in years and no I still have all my teeth. My family could not afford the luxury of chocolates. Will you let me say my piece?
As I started to say, when I was in secondary school, I used to read about rich families sending their children to finishing schools. Rich families in the fifties, and sixties then. The girls were sent to finishing schools, the boys generally went on a tour of the world to learn about other cultures. More often than not, they were sent to Rome as the girls were sent to Switzerland.
Some of the lessons for the girls was refined speech, ability to listen attentively at polite gatherings. You also learned the art of socializing in a refined, delicate way, walk straight with books on your head.
There no refined schools in my neck of the woods, then more than sixty years ago nor at the present moment. In my world, getting a certificate was the first and for most of us the only consideration. So we rarely read for pleasure. But there was Enid Blyton’s adventure stories, the Famous five and as we got older Mills and Boon.
If like me you were a girl from a poor family, getting educated was a really a big miracle. So you will wonder what will a poor girl like me in the sixties be thinking about a finishing school or knowing anything about it? Reading was not banned, and I happened to love reading, read all the James Hadley Chase available, Ian Fleming and quite a lot you will be shocked to learn. I still do. So, I read about young persons like me who lived across the pond. Read about their language. Read so much about their lifestyles and the art of good speech.
That is where I am going really, the art of good speech which comes from being a good communicator. The finishing school of people like my hero Barack Obama.
The finishing school of Maya Angelou, my ultimate poet, the school by Mahatma Gandhi, powerful communicators who could infect us with the power of their speech, and impacted our lives.
I had a quiet boss when I became a broadcaster. He was quiet in his mien and demeanour until he needed to pass a message either in the studio or through any of his programmes…Conversations with Bisi Lawrence.
Did these role models of mine go to finishing schools? I doubt if they did, but they had a gift they used very effectively. They were good communicators and for me, they had leadership skills. It was thus natural when I became a Toastmaster that I should see them as Toastmasters too. A Toastmaster is a good communicator and an active listener.
I am a Toastmaster, and now in my own finishing school. I do not need to go abroad, but Toastmasters International is available to me. I can learn at my own pace and at a very affordable price too. I learned how to listen, not just hear people speak, but also to learn active listening.
What do I learn? Quite a lot I am discovering in the Pathways they make available.
Toastmasters International is an educational NGO that teaches communicating and leadership skills in an environment of love, polite and friendly evaluation.
I see it as a personal finishing school for anyone who thinks life will be richer and easier if he has good communicating skills. When you have good communicating skills you carry the possibility of being a good leader, a thought leader. It does not matter your profession in life, you need to be able to communicate..
The beauty of this finishing school is the ability to go at your own pace to acquire the skills you need on your own terms.
Sometimes, you hear the song of the Earth,
the whisper of the sun in her loving caress of your hopes
the sighing mountain and the giggle of the ocean between the roars..
The day opens her eyes
you feel your dreams shape
her forms into hopes
like soft silk down the spine
a prayer escapes your spirit.
Caress the stars,
your hopes enwrapped
like a love-struck maid
shapes the morrow and horizon
bless the day with love seeds
tomorrow’s fruit quickens
fruits of happy harvest..
Dreams flow rich,
from the running brook,
man stands to watch,
the colouring book,
of His grace.
My soul longs to feel on me, the grace,
I sigh and lay in the soft grass of home.
The bells through the flashing lights
tell me that harvests are almost done.
Will Father find enough for the treasure?
I hope for you that
the harvest though not very pure
will ring the bells.
The sun can be persuaded
to have roses in the desert.
The dew at dawn is as
soft as the outer reaches of the sun.
the hand that holds the Sword is loving and firm.
The scalpel of the surgeon is sharp
to remove the errant tissue.
It is mercy.
The eagle lives on the crag
as the dove descends
and the sea breaks out on victory song.
The unicorn sniffs the golden air
for the sun is out again.