A Writer’s Unique Opportunity to Contribute to His Own Celebration of Life

A Writer’s Unique Opportunity to Contribute to His Own Celebration of Life

Author Ian Moore-Morrans died on February 22, 2019. (Reference the previous blogpost containing his obituary.) Since his daughter and her husband had left for a three-week trip to Hawaii early in the morning of the day he died, Ian’s wife, editor and sometimes co-author Gayle had a unique opportunity to prepare a script to be used for Ian’s Celebration of Life which was then scheduled to take place a month after his death on March 23, 2019.

Anyone who knew Ian during most of his life knew that he was usually eager to contribute his opinion or the last word in any conversation. He valued his God-given talents for using his voice, whether it be in conversation, song or through the written word.

Thank God, our pastor was also amenable to going along with Gayle’s plans for the memorial service, as were a number of friends who consented to participate in sharing several of Ian’s favourite hymns or in reading aloud some of Ian’s writings. Gayle likes to point out that Ian was able to help present his own eulogy in this unique way.

Though they did not speak publicly at the ceremony, Ian’s family members (daughters, sons-in-law, grandchildren and great-grandchildren) also contributed to the ceremony during a procession at the beginning of the service. These are all wonderful memories and keepsakes for years to come.

Saturday, March 23, 2019                                                              

Sherwood Park Lutheran Church

Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

Note: Ian’s widow Gayle and daughters Audrey and Shirley acted as greeters and invited people to sign the guestbook. Ian’s grandsons, Ian and Calan (dressed in Ian’s kilt outfits) passed out bulletins and greeted people as they entered the sanctuary.

A slide presentation of photos from Ian’s life was shown on the screen for approximately 30 minutes prior to the service. Recorded music from the Salvation Army International Staff Band playing Goldcrest (“I’ve Got the Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy Down in My Heart”) followed by piano music by Church Musician Corey Francis accompanied the presentation.

 

Gathering

Ian’s family procession, led by Pastor Erik Reedman Parker, bore items from Ian’s life and placed them on a table holding an enamelled vase of thistles and white heather at the top of the steps in the chancel. Family then seated themselves in the reserved rows, along with sons-in-law Eugene and Brien.

  • the wooden box urn bearing Ian’s ashes – Daughter Audrey (front center of table)
  • a large framed picture of Ian – Daughter Shirley (back left corner)
  • Ian’s Celtic wedding ring – Wife Gayle (on top of urn)
  • McKinnon Clan crest – Granddaughter Tammy (back right corner)
  • 2 brass candlesticks made by Ian – Granddaughter Ainsley (on either side of urn)
  • Ian’s antique trumpet – Granddaughter Tiffany (floor front, standing on bell)
  • Ian’s Glengarry bonnet – Grandson Ian (left side)
  • Ian’s tartan bonnet – Grandson Calan (right side)
  • Sprigs of purple heather – Great-granddaughters Caleigh, Madison, and Haylee, Granddaughter-in-law Lisa (scattered on floor in front of the table)
  • 2 miniature stuffed dogs – Great-grandsons Logan and Brayden (at front sides of urn). (Ian loved to hold these wee dogs his last weeks in the hospital and care home, representative of the many dogs he loved over the years.)

 

SPLC Choir: “The Lord’s My Shepherd” was sung during the procession, accompanied on the organ. (Ian would sing this hymn almost nightly as his evening prayer during the last years of his life.) (Based on Psalm 23, from the Scottish Psalter, 1650, tune: Crimond.)

The Lord’s my Shepherd, I’ll not want. He makes me down to lie in pastures green; He leadeth me the quiet waters by.

My soul He doth restore again; and me to walk doth make within the paths of righteousness, e’en for His own Name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk in death’s dark vale, Yet will I fear none ill; for Thou art with me; and Thy rod and staff me comfort still.

My table Thou hast furnishèd in presence of my foes; My head Thou dost with oil anoint, And my cup overflows.

Goodness and mercy all my life Shall surely follow me; And in God’s house forevermore, My dwelling place shall be.

 

Greeting, Welcome & Prayer of the Day– Pastor Erik Parker

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the source of all mercy and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows so that we can comfort others in their sorrows with the consolation we ourselves have received from God.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all.  C: And also with you.

Let us pray. Almighty God, source of all mercy and giver of comfort, graciously tend those who mourn, that, casting all their sorrow on you, they may know the consolation of your love; through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.   C: Amen.

 

Remembrance of Ian – (Gayle, assisted by Donna and Don Engel)

            Gayle Moore-Morrans: Because I’ve lived the adventure of being Ian’s wife and editor for the last 15 plus years, I feel eminently qualified to share my perspective on his personality. I’m the one responsible for the “Moore” portion of our family name. I’m also the author of the lengthy eulogy you have in your bulletins. Don’t worry; I am not about to read that eulogy aloud. However, I have written a Remembrance of Ian that I wanted to share with you today. I know that I’ll be too emotional to deliver it so I’ve asked our good friends, Donna and Don Engel, to assist me. I thank them for their friendship over the years and for the care they both gave Ian and me while he was hospitalized. I also thank in advance those other friends who will be sharing Ian’s music and unique written voice with us. Ian’s family and I appreciate your friendship and support. God bless.

Donna Engel reads: These are Gayle’s words:

“Ian was a man of many talents who had a great capacity to love. He was full of curiosity about many things, outgoing and friendly and always interested in finding out what made other people tick. Rarely at a loss for words, he loved to share his opinion, no matter whether others wanted to hear it or not. He had a rough beginning in life, which could have made him bitter. It just made him determined to try to make life better, however and wherever he could. He was also a man of great contradictions: at times religious and then not religious; brought up in a non-emotional, non-expressive family but readily able to express and show his love and caring as a husband and father; capable of performing quality dedicated work at whatever job he could find, but even happier when he could be on the move, learning new things, having new experiences and meeting new people. He sometimes lost his temper with those he loved, but always apologized later for causing them distress. He could build anything, repair anything and make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Most of all, though, Ian was a ‘voice’ and a ‘presence.’

“His voice was what most attracted Gayle to him when they met at Grace Café on north Henderson Highway one Monday evening in June of 2003. She had walked into the café to find it practically empty except for what she describes as a “wee, balding, ruddy-faced 71-year-old man who was ‘holding court’ with the waitress”. The waitress seemed as intrigued as Gayle with Ian’s melodic Scottish accent and the charming blarney that was coming out of his mouth. He introduced himself, asked if Gayle were alone and then invited her to take a seat at his table. After discovering that they were both writers and shared lots of other interests, they hardly stopped talking and, within a week, they had decided they wanted to be together always. And Gayle hadn’t even heard him sing yet! She soon found his musical talents enthralling, as well as the charisma and humour he imparted when he was performing. She had been brought up in a musical family and hearing Ian sing intrigued her all the more. Later in this service you’ll be able to hear Ian sing, as there are video recordings of some of his performances in past years.

“In conclusion, Gayle would like us to share Ian’s favourite poem which, again, points to some of his contradictions. Desiderata is a prose poem by Max Ehrmann. Now, Ian normally claimed that a poem wasn’t authentic unless it rhymed and then he turned around and chose a poem that doesn’t rhyme as his favourite. (Go figure!) The word “Desiderata” means “things wanted or needed.” The poem is a concise but truly inspiring reminder that one should strive for high ideals. It reminds us to treat others kindly, to accept who they are and to be gentle with ourselves. It motivates us to have faith in ourselves and to develop trust in the way our circumstances unfold. Gayle could understand how this poem would resonate with Ian, except for the fact that several of the ideals that the author points out include words like ‘quiet,’ ‘silence’ and ‘placid,’ concepts that Ian wasn’t really able to grasp until the last years of his life when he was very ill. The rest of the poem certainly is a fitting summary of the ideals for which Ian strove to live out his life.”

Don Engel reads:

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Rest in peace, dear Ian.

 

A Reading from Colossians 3:12-17 – Pastor Erik

As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

 

Reading and Solo “The Old Rugged Cross” – Bill Johnston

A reading from Ian’s Memoir: From Poverty to Poverty: A Scotsman Encounters Canada. (This story happened in Ian’s teens when he was active in Campbeltown’s Salvation Army congregation.)

“Shortly after the Saturday evening meeting started, I would be asked to go to the local pubs to sell The War Cry, a Salvation Army newspaper. This was done without fail every Saturday night, but usually by different people on a rotating basis. Anyway, this one night, I went my rounds and, as luck would have it, I seemed to meet with a lot of drunken men. Now, it was my own belief that it was wrong to sell a paper to a drunken person. So what I would do was to fold it up, put it in his pocket in the hope that he would read it the next morning when he was sober and start to lead a Christian life.

“Needless to say, with meeting so many drunks that night, the money box was a little on the light side and all the papers were gone. When I returned to the hall, the Captain opened the box and only a few coppers fell out. She turned to me and asked where the rest of the money was. I told her that I had met a lot of drunks and had put the paper in their pockets. She wouldn’t accept this and insinuated that I had pocketed the money. So that was me, quitting again! A few weeks later she was at my door and apologized. I went back, but this time I didn’t have to hit the mercy seat!

“There was one rather peculiar situation that occurred when it was my turn to go around to one certain pub on Shore Street. In this pub there was always one certain large man who would put a hand on either side of my waist and pick me up, lifting me onto a table. (Not a difficult move for him, as I barely reached 5 feet 5.) Then he’d take The War Cry papers and the collection box from me, and order me to sing ‘The Old Rugged Cross’—all three verses. (There are actually four verses, but one is seldom sung.) Meanwhile, he would go around to all the people in the pub with the papers and the moneybox, distributing and collecting. It’s no wonder today that I still remember all of the words to those three verses by heart, fifty plus years later!”

Solo – “The Old Rugged Cross”, sung and accompanied on guitar – Bill Johnston. (Melody and Lyrics: © George Bennard, 1913)

  1. On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross, The emblem of suffering and shame; And I love that old cross where the dearest and best for a world of lost sinners was slain. So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross, Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross, And exchange it some day for a crown.
  2. O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world, has a wondrous attraction for me; For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above To bear it to dark Calvary. So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross, Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross, And exchange it some day for a crown.
  3. To the old rugged cross I will ever be true; Its shame and reproach gladly bear; Then He’ll call me some day to my home far away, where His glory forever I’ll share. So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross, Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross, And exchange it some day for a crown.

 

Reflections and Readings: Tom Lurvey, Kolleen Karlowsky-Clark

            Tom Lurvey: I was a pastor for twenty years, now retired, here at Sherwood Park Lutheran Church.  I’m privileged to have gotten to know Ian over the years as his pastor and as a friend.

I remember very well the first time I met him.  One Sunday morning Gayle showed up with a man on her arm.  They sat together there on the left, on the aisle about halfway back. After worship he came up to me—a man small of stature but, I learned, large in personality and heart—and greeted me with the words, “Pastor, that was a bonnie wee sermon you had today.”

Some time later I learned that Ian wanted to be baptized. In the Christian tradition in which he grew up, the Salvation Army, they didn’t practice baptism.  Ian being Ian, planning for that baptism took some discussion and negotiation. The main stipulation was that he didn’t want to be baptized with water just being sprinkled or poured on his head.  Rather, he wanted to be dunked right under the water. Well, that was great with me: I’d always wanted to do a baptism like that.

When the day came, we gathered at Bird’s Hill Lake. I remember it as a chilly day. Ian and I were clad in swimsuits and t-shirts.  He and I waded into what felt like frigid water till we were just past waist-deep. Then I said, “Ian, I baptize you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” and I dunked him under. Ian came up spitting and, as fast as we could, we pushed our way back to shore where Gayle waited for us with some warm, fluffy towels.

That day, God told Ian in a very concrete way, “Ian, I love you.  I have called you by name and you are mine.”

Today, as we remember Ian and thank God for his life and all that he’s meant to us, I want to remind you all about how much Ian means to God.  God loves him.  And even as God has guided Ian and walked with him all through a remarkable life, so God continues to hold onto him right now and forever. Thanks be to God.

            Kolleen Karlowsky-Clarke: (A friend of Ian and Gayle’s and former intern and later interim pastor at Sherwood Park Lutheran Church, who offered the prayers at Ian and Gayle’s wedding.) Tom and I will share portions of a 2013 interview of Ian on The Author’s Show, an internationally acclaimed online radio book marketing show. The interview was about his first memoir: From Poverty to Poverty.  I will read the part of the interviewer and Tom will represent Ian’s answers as they were given.  In a way, one could say that Ian is acting here as his own eulogizer.

Q. Is there a central message in your book, From Poverty to Poverty: A Scotsman Encounters Canada?

A. Yes, I think so. I’ve found that it is possible to overcome a negative lifestyle like poverty but, in order to do so, one has to have a lot of grit, perseverance, sometimes luck and even humour to get through it all.

Q. For readers of your book who have not experienced poverty in their lives, what one word do you think they would choose to describe your book?

A. Even though my first thought was “horrendous,” my present wife who is also my editor said, “eye-opening.” That’s the word she used after she first read my story before we were married almost 10 years ago.  She was not brought up in poverty and was astonished and taken aback by all that I had experienced.

Q. You claim this book is an autobiography.Are all the stories in it true and all the characters taken from real life?

A. Yes, all of the stories are true. They, of course, are filtered through my own eyes and my own experiences so another person may interpret happenings from a different perspective. In certain instances, I’ve chosen to change the names of people because I felt it necessary to protect their identity or maintain their privacy. One prime example is the character I’ve chosen to call “Jock Campbel.”  When I was a wee lad and our financial situation at home was even more dire than usual, my mother would occasionally ask me to go to that man and ask him to lend her ten shillings.  This was about a dollar and a half, but it had a lot more buying power then than now.  But before I would go she always cautioned me to wait until he was on his own.  There never was any hesitation from him.  Out would come his wallet and a ten-shilling note would be handed to me. As far as I know, my brother was never sent on a similar mission and I never thought to discuss it with him or even ask Mother why.  That man was an upstanding member of the community and a married man with children.  I never thought much about this strange mission until years later when some things my mother said about the man led me to wonder whether he could have been the man who sired me.

Q. You describe your early family life as rather dysfunctional with no one showing affection to the others. How has this affected your adult role as husband and father?

A. I know my mother and grandmother cared very much for both my brother and me.We lived on welfare and Mother worked at degrading odd jobs on the sly to get a wee bit extra.  She also put ourhunger ahead of herswhen there was little food to share.  But none of us showed or spoke of any affection or caring toward the others. Perhaps Mother and Granny had never been shown affection and didn’t know how to do so.  And if they didn’t know how, my brother and I didn’t have a chance to learn by example.  I don’t know where I learned it, maybe showing affection was something that just was innate in me and eventually came out when I had my own wife and children. As an adult I’ve made special efforts to tell my family members that I love and honour them and have always been ready and willing to take care of and help them to the best of my ability.

Q. What role did your membership in the Salvation Army play in your early life?

A. It taught me how to live a respectable and God-fearing life. It gave me a place where I knew I belonged, was respected and valued (although I rebelled off and on at a lot of restrictions it placed on my choices of entertainment).  Most importantly, it gave me an opportunity to learn to sing and play several instruments.  Because of that I can truly say that my real avocation in life is music making.

Q. What was the greatest single decision in your life that started to lift you out of a life of poverty and how did it do so?

A. That would be quitting my apprenticeship to a drunken, cruel blacksmith and enlisting in the Royal Air Force. Overnight I had three decent meals a day, a decent-paying job, a bed with sheets on it, all the decent clothing I needed and future prospects through career training.  Plus that, I could continue to play in a band and had money left over to send home to my mother to help her out a wee bit.

A. I understand you use humour in your writing.How does this connect with the tragic circumstances of poverty?

A. Poverty is bad enough. If you can find anything humorous in whatever day-to-day happenings you encounter, then you should celebrate those things.  Laughter can elevate you from the depressed hole of poverty – at least a wee bit.  If you really look, there are comical aspects to a lot of things, even those that are essentially negative.

Q. What is your favourite humorous story in your book?

A. Soon after we immigrated to Canada, my wife Mary and I were at a dance in Toronto. A group of us were standing and chatting at the edge of the dance floor when I announced that I was going to the bar for a drink.  When I returned, a young, good-looking woman put her arm through mine and I understood her to say, “I like the way you roll your arse!”  I hesitated a little and looked down at one buttock and then the other, wondering what it was I did with my “arse” that got her attention.  It wasn’t until I thoroughly thought about it that I realized that she was saying that she liked the way I rolled my “RRRRs!”  I guess she enjoyed the Scottish accent.  Boy, what a relief!

Q. You claim that musicianship is integral to your life. How is that reflected in your book?

A. When my wife/editor first read my story, she was struck by how much music was woven into the narrative. She encouraged me to expand on those instances, leading me to quote from songs or to fill out descriptions of the song connections with my own story.  For instance, when I am describing my hometown Campbeltown, I mentioned the folk-song made most popular in the ‘60s by Scottish folk-singer Andy Stewart: “Campbeltown Loch, I Wish Ye Were Whisky.”

I eventually wrote the following: “As we were growing up, three or four of us boys would go arm in arm down the street singing the first few words—‘Campbeltown Loch, I wish ye were whisky.  I would drink ye dry!’

“The song imagines how nice it would be if the loch were full up to the brim with whisky and you could anchor a boat in the whisky-filled bay to go in for a nip and a dip ‘by night and by day.’  Clan gatherings would feature wading into the loch with toasts of ‘slainte bva’ (meaning ‘good health’).  The only problem would be the police showing up in a launch and shouting, ‘Time, Gentlemen, please!’”

Q. Your book is permeated with “Scottishness.” Why would someone who has no Scottish connection want to read this book?

A. Lots of people like to read biographies or hear stories of other people’s personal experiences, especially if they are out of the ordinary. It also seems to me that a lot of non-Scots show a curiosity about and interest in Scottish things like tartans, kilts (or what is or isn’t worn under them!), bagpipers, Robbie Burns’ suppers, Scottish parties called “caleidhs”, Highland games and the like.  I hope they’d enjoy a first-hand account of one Scot’s unique experiences.  We Scots are known as folksy and sometimes blunt people who put our own colourful slant to our language. I attempt to reflect that in my writing.

 

A Reading from Revelation 21:1-7,22-27 – Pastor Erik

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.” Then he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life. Those who conquer will inherit these things, and I will be their God and they will be my children. 

Then one of the seven angels who had the seven bowls full of the seven last plagues came and said to me, “Come, I will show you the bride, the wife of the Lamb.” And in the spirit he carried me away to a great, high mountain and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God. It has the glory of God and a radiance like a very rare jewel, like jasper, clear as crystal.

I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it. Its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there. People will bring into it the glory and the honour of the nations. But nothing unclean will enter it, nor anyone who practices abomination or falsehood, but only those who are written in the Lamb’s book of life.”

 

Reading and Solo – “The Holy City” – Darryl Pokrant

A reading from Ian’s not-yet-published Came to Canada, Eh? Memoirs of a Scottish Nomad. (The story finds Ian in 1997, recently retired and moved from Winnipeg to Flin Flon.)

“I found Flin Flon a great little place. I met more people and made more friends in the short time I was there than I ever made in any other place I’ve lived in Canada. [I had joined the 120-voice Community Choir and was delighted that we had a successful presentation of Handel’s Messiah, first in Snow Lake and then in Flin Flon.] …

“Our choir also performed and was well received at the Cathedral in The Pas a little after the New Year. I was asked to sing a solo in the service immediately before the Messiah was to be performed, and although I’m not Roman Catholic, I said that I would be honoured. (I was delighted to think that I was considered good enough to do so!)

“The Holy City” was my choice–my old standby from way back when I first sang it as a young boy in Campbeltown’s Salvation Army worship service [and then later when I was in the Royal Air Force and stationed near Cardiff, Wales, I was thrilled to sing it in a concert in Abertillery in the Rhonda Valley. I considered that quite an undertaking, because Wales is the “land of song.” For a Scotsman to be asked to sing a solo; well, that could be seen as maybe a wee bit presumptuous. It seemed that I “knocked them dead,” as the saying goes. Maybe they were just being nice, giving me an “E” for Effort, I don’t really know; but the applause seemed very genuine. I’m a tenor, and the top note was a healthy “G” which I was able to achieve with no trouble at all.]

“The song is a bit operatic and I fancy myself emulating the great Scottish singer, Kenneth McKellar, who was famous for that piece. I always get a rush of joy as it paints a majestic picture based on Revelation 21 of the Holy City, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God.” 

Solo: “The Holy City”,  Darryl Pokrant, piano accompaniment by Corey Francis. (Lyrics by Frederick E. Weatherly, Music by Michael Maybrick, writing as Stephen Adams)

    1. Last night I lay a-sleeping, there came a dream so fair, I stood in old Jerusalem beside the temple there. I heard the children singing, and ever as they sang Methought the voice of angels from heaven in answer rang, Methought the voice of angels from heaven in answer rang, Jerusalem! Jerusalem! Lift up your gates and sing, Hosanna in the highest! Hosanna to your King!
    2. And then methought my dream was changed, the streets no longer rang. Hushed were the glad Hosannas the little children sang. The sun grew dark with mystery, the morn was cold and chill, As the shadow of a cross arose upon a lonely hill, As the shadow of a cross arose upon a lonely hill. Jerusalem! Jerusalem! Hark! How the angels sing, Hosanna in the highest! Hosanna to your King!
    3. And once again the scene was changed, new earth there seemed to be. I saw the Holy City beside the tideless sea. The light of God was on its streets, the gates were open wide, And all who would might enter, and no one was denied. No need of moon or stars by night, or sun to shine by day; It was the new Jerusalem that would not pass away, It was the new Jerusalem that would not pass away. Jerusalem! Jerusalem! Sing for the night is o’er! Hosanna in the highest! Hosanna forevermore! Hosanna in the highest! Hosanna forevermore!

 

Prayers of Intercession & Commendation – Pastor Erik

Let us pray. Almighty God, in holy baptism you have knit your chosen people together into one communion of saints in the body of Christ. Give to your whole church in heaven and on earth your light and your peace. God of mercy,  C. hear our prayer.

Give courage and faith to all who mourn, and a sure and certain hope in your loving care, that, casting all their sorrow on you, they may have strength for the days ahead. God of mercy,   C. hear our prayer.

Grant to us who are still in our pilgrimage, and who walk as yet by faith, that, where this world groans in grief and pain, your Holy Spirit may lead us to bear witness to your light and life. God of mercy,           C. hear our prayer.

Help us, in the midst of things we cannot understand, to believe and trust in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, and the resurrection to life everlasting. God of mercy,    C. hear our prayer.

God of all grace, we give you thanks because by his death our Savior Jesus Christ destroyed the power of death and by his resurrection he opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers. Make us certain that because he lives we shall live also, and that neither death nor life, nor things present nor things to come, will be able to separate us from your love in Christ Jesus our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.   C: Amen.

Lord’s Prayer; Gathered into one by the Holy Spirit, let us pray as Jesus taught us: C: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours, now and forever. Amen.

 

Commendation. (Pastor Erik places his hands on the urn.) Let us commend Ian to the mercy of God, our maker and redeemer:

Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend your servant Ian. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light.   C. Amen.

 

 

Video Presentation of Ian entertaining

1998 – Selections from the musical Brigadoon, including Ian singing “I’ll Go Home With Bonnie Jean” – Community Production: “Flin Flon Remembers,” Flin Flon, Manitoba;

2003 – Scenes from Ian & Gayle’s Wedding at Sherwood Park Lutheran Church, Winnipeg, Manitoba, including Ian singing Robbie Burns’ “My Love Is Like a Red, Red Rose” at the church reception and of Ian speaking at the evening reception/smörgåsbord at Winnipeg’s Scandinavian Centre;

2005 – Ian participating in Scottish Country Dancing during a Robbie Burns’ supper Ian hosted at St. Andrews Anglican Church, Riberas del Pilar, Mexico;

2007 – Ian and Gayle entertaining at New Year’s Eve (Hogmanay) Party, Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Penticton, British Columbia, singing “Campbeltown Loch, I Wish Ye Were Whisky,” “Donald, Where’s Yer Troosers” and “Auld Lang Syne”;

2008 – Okanagan’s Mr. Scotland and His Bonnie Lassie entertaining at the Kelvern Celtic Society’s Caleidh in Vernon, British Columbia; singing “The Northern Lights of Old Aberdeen,” “Misty Islands o’ the Highlands” and “The Song of the Clyde”;

2006 – Ian recording “Scotland, the Brave” at a recording studio near Chapala, Mexico;

2018 – Photos of Ian and Gayle at home in Winnipeg on their 15th Wedding Anniversary with a recording of Ian singing “Come In, Come In, It’s Nice T’ See Ye.”

 

Congregational Hymn:“Amazing Grace” (words projected on the screen), accompanied by recorded bagpipes plus organ (Corey Francis) and trumpet (Janet Giese).

    1. Amazing grace! How sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found; Was blind, but now I see.
    2. ’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, And grace my fears relieved; How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believed.
    3. Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come; ’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, And grace will lead me home.

 

Grace & Blessing– Pastor Erik

God of all mercy and grace, the eyes of all wait upon you, O Lord, and you give them their food in due season. You open your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing. We give you thanks for your servant Ian, bless our conversation and fellowship, as we remember him and give you thanks.    C. Amen.

The God of peace, who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, make you complete in everything good so that you may do God’s will, working in you that which is well-pleasing in God’s sight; through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever and ever.       C. Amen.

Postlude:“Ode to Joy”

 

IN LOVING MEMORY OF IAN MOORE-MORRANS

 

Ian Moore-Morrans,loving husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather, musician, author, raconteur, master machinist and craftsman, Scottish to the core, and all-around larger-than-life character, died suddenly at Misericordia Health Centre, Winnipeg on Friday, February 22, 2019 at the age of 86. Born in Glasgow, Scotland on May 2, 1932, Ian Morrans was raised, along with his elder brother Archie, by their mother “Wee Chrissie” and grandmother Maggie in a one-room attic slum in Campbeltown, a small, picturesque fishing-and-whisky-brewing town on Scotland’s Kintyre Peninsula. His formative years as part of the poorest family in town were spent trying to get enough to eat and stay warm during the years of the Great Depression and World War II. Ian enjoyed and did well during his school years, though his formal education concluded when he was 14. During adolescence as a blacksmith’s apprentice, Ian also began a lifelong love affair with music making while wavering between the strictures of the Salvation Army and the “worldly pleasures” of the outside world where he excelled at ballroom and Scottish country dancing.

 

Life began to improve when Ian joined the Royal Air Force at age 18 in 1950. He served five years as an aircraft engine mechanic and bandsman in the United Kingdom and then Egypt. In the latter, he experienced the consequences of the Arab “walkouts” that eventually led to the Suez Canal crisis. Ian was one of those chosen few who were selected to learn how to make palatable water for the British troops. He went on to supervise water filtration plants in isolated desert assignments while on loan to the British Army.

Finally returned to the RAF and back to Britain in 1954, Ian met Mary Fraser from Motherwell, Scotland, who had become his pen pal during the Egypt years. They were married on December 29, 1954. Ian completed five years of military service in 1955 and then began civilian life in the Glasgow area (though for a few years also part of the Territorial Army, i.e., a “weekend warrior”), first as a bill collector and a tram conductor followed by jobs related to his military training: machine-fitter, industrial mechanic, overhead crane operator and eventually shift scheduler at a steel mill.

Two daughters were born to Mary and Ian: Audrey in 1956 and Shirley in 1958. In addition, Ian and Mary cared for Mary’s elderly mother, Susan Fraser. After her death, Ian got “itchy feet” and began to think of emigrating. Misled by the inflated promises of an unscrupulous Government of Ontario official to choose Canada over Australia, Ian, Mary and the girls endured a winter sailing over the Atlantic in 1965, including a collision in the St. Lawrence Seaway. They soon found Ian’s promised machinist’s job hadn’t materialized and the cost of buying a house had been enormously downplayed. Misadventures in finding and keeping jobs and a suitable place to live in Canada led Ian to conclude that he had only moved “from poverty to poverty.” It took them five years to finally obtain the level of affluence they had reached in Scotland before emigrating.

Ian never did completely take off his “traveling shoes”!  His working years in Canada, 1965-1997, found him at many different machining jobs and residences in Ontario, Alberta, Manitoba, British Columbia and Saskatchewan, including four times in Winnipeg, where he eventually retired on his 65thbirthday in 1997. Besides many small machine shops, Ian worked for significant lengths of time for Douglas Aircraft, Northwest Industries, the Royal Canadian Mint and Burrard Iron Works. Occasionally, when machining jobs were unavailable, he found work as a building superintendent, driving his own delivery truck, teaching metal machining in an adult night school program, or even delivering pizzas. Recessions in Canada contributed to many lay offs and moves to seek work. Other times, moves were made for a better job or climate, family considerations, or just to satisfy the soul of a nomad. Despite the extreme climate, however, family ultimately drew him back to Winnipeg. (It was there, at age 44, Ian gained his “Grade 12” certificate through the G.E.D. program.)

After retirement, Ian and Mary moved north to the Flin Flon MB/Creighton SK area. There, Ian dove into his creative side big time: joining the Community Choir; performing in a community revue; organizing and soloing in both Robbie Burns’ and St. Patrick’s celebrations; acting in the play, Tom Jones; and joining the local writer’s guild.

In 2000, Mary and Ian returned to Britain, exploring retirement in the Old Country. However, they had become too “Canadianized” to stay, so relocated to Nova Scotia – a touch of Scotland and halfway between Britain and Manitoba (where their growing Canadian family was located). Ian relished his two years there, entertaining in many Scottish celebrations and ceilidhs while living in New Glasgow and then Pictou. Mary was unhappy away from the daughters and grandchildren though, so returned to Audrey’s in Winnipeg while Ian attempted to sell their house. Ian moved back to Winnipeg (5thtime) in October 2002. One week later, Mary, tragically and unexpectedly, died.

Though mourning, Ian vowed to get on with life while he still was able. He proceeded to write with abandon, attend seniors’ dances and explore the dating scene. In June 2003, Ian met a much-younger widow, Gayle Moore Johannesson, whom he quickly considered his soul mate. They were married on September 7ththat year at Sherwood Park Lutheran Church, combining their birth family names to form a new one: Moore-Morrans. After Gayle retired in July 2004, they moved out of the country to explore “RVing” and retirement in Mexico.

Ian had always wanted to write, but had never found the time until, at age 63, he started to record some of the stories he had been telling for years and creating new ones. He felt Providence had a hand in his meeting Gayle, who was then working as a magazine and program editor. As he put it: “Every writer needs an editor!” Their sojourn in Mexico cemented their collaboration as Ian continued to write and perfect his craft, while Gayle began to edit his growing pile of writings. They settled into the world’s largest English-speaking expatriate community on the north shore of Lake Chapala and joined the local writers’ group. During the years that ensued, they formed a publishing team: Moomor Publishing. To date, they have published four books: Metal Machining Made Easy(a DIY book); Beyond the Phantom Battle: Mystery at Loch Ashie(a time-travel, Scottish adventure story); From Poverty to Poverty: A Scotsman Encounters Canada(a memoir, 1932-1970); and Jake, Little Jimmy & Big Louie(a chapter book about a boy and two birds). Gayle began collaborating on the writing as Ian’s health deteriorated. She maintains a website for their writings at ianmooremorrans.com. Caring for Ian in his later years has taken a toll on editing the rest of his writings but she hopes to soon finish editing Ian’s second memoir: Came to Canada, Eh? Memoirs of a Scottish Nomad (1970-2004).

Ian’s passion was music-making. With a beautiful tenor voice, he loved to perform. During his teenage years in the Salvation Army in Campbeltown, he readily got up to sing whenever called upon. Highlights in his adult life included soloing at a concert in Abertillery, Rhonda Valley, Wales and, years later, at the Roman Catholic Cathedral in The Pas, Manitoba. With his trumpet, cornet or trombone he was much more of a team player, starting his training at age 14 and going on for the next over-50 years in church and military brass bands, concert, dance and community bands and small combos in Scotland, England, Wales, Egypt and Canada. When he wasn’t singing or tooting a horn, he could be found whistling a merry tune, even at work from his machinist’s bench. In his later years in Canada and for two years in Mexico, Ian performed at various Robbie Burns’, St. Andrew’s or St. Patrick’s functions, church suppers, house parties, Winnipeg’s Folklorama Scottish Pavilion and other Celtic ceilidhs. In his mid-40s, Ian competed in an annual talent contest sponsored by the Associated Canadian Travellers. After several rounds in a variety of Alberta towns, he won First Place in the Variety Division, over 363 original solo contestants. In his 70s while living in Mexico, Ian encouraged Gayle to join him in entertaining. They both sang in the Los Cantates del Lagochoir and spent many evenings perfecting their Scottish duet style.

By 2007 they had moved back to Canada (British Columbia) where they became known as “Okanagan’s Mr. Scotland and His Bonnie Lassie.” For the first year, spent in Penticton, Ian continued his “full-steam-ahead” pace. Then, shortly after they had moved to Vernon, he was felled by a severe illness in August of 2008. BOOP (Bronchialitis Obliterans Organizing Pneumonia) nearly took his life and resulted in over five years of ill health before finally burning itself out in February 2013. By that time, he no longer wrote or used the computer. His vibrant personality only occasionally showed itself and he was much quieter than anyone who knew him before could imagine. Initially his health began to improve, though his memory started to diminish with an eventual diagnosis of mild cognitive impairment.

In Summer 2015, they returned to Winnipeg (6thtime) to Fred Douglas Place, a seniors’ residence in downtown Winnipeg. By September 2017, Ian was diagnosed with an inoperable rectal cancer and continued breathing problems from lingering heart and lung issues, in addition to dementia. After a year and a half on palliative care at home, Ian was hospitalized just before Christmas 2018. He spent his final days at Misericordia Health Centre Interim Care, still proclaiming love for his “wee wifey” and family, his appreciation of Canada and his enduring attachment to anything Scottish. Though his voice was greatly diminished, he kept on singing to the end.

Ian was predeceased by Mary, his wife of almost 48 years; his mother, Christina, and stepfather, Irishman Bill Moorhead of Campbeltown, Scotland; and his brother, Archibald Morrans of Peterborough, England. He leaves these loved ones to mourn his passing and celebrate his life well and truly lived: his wife of 15 years, Gayle Moore-Morrans; daughter Audrey German (Eugene/Carl) of Winnipeg; daughter Shirley Lee (Brien) of Flin Flon; five grandchildren: Tammy German (Brad Falk) of Calgary; Calan German (Lisa) and Ainsley German (Phil) of Winnipeg; Ian Lee (Debbie) of Creighton, SK and Tiffany Falk (Chad) of Flin Flon; nine great-grandchildren: Leland, Hannah, Caleigh, Logan and Madison German, Lexi and Alex Lee, Brayden and Haylee Falk; three nephews in the U.K. and in-laws in the U.K., the U.S.A. and Norway.

A Celebration of Life will be held at Sherwood Park Lutheran Church, Tudor Crescent and London Road, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, at 2 pm on March 23, 2019. Memorials are welcomed to SPLC Memorial Fund, Canadian Lutheran World Relief, the Salvation Army, Canadian Cancer Society, the Heart & Lung Association, Alzheimer Manitoba or another charity.

“So I’ll cherish the Old Rugged Cross, ‘til my trophies at last I lay down. I will cling to the Old Rugged Cross and exchange it some day for a crown.”

Your Life Is Your Story. Write Well. Edit Often.

20 Inspirational Cancer Quotes For Survivors, Fighters – Inspirational Quotes Ideas

Well, we surely are editing our life’s stories at present. Cancer has reared its dreaded head and we are in the first stages of finding out how Ian’s life story is being edited.

Ian has just spent 3 days in the Winnipeg Health Sciences Centre emergency room, having gone in with severe bloody diarrhea, had a colonoscopy and CT scan and is now home. The medical team found a rectal tumour which is the source of the bleeding. That means cancer, of course, but we are happy to hear that it is localized and not expected to metastasize elsewhere. We are now awaiting a consultation with a surgical oncologist to see where to proceed from here. Thank God, he is not in any pain, just really exhausted. We’re sure the surgeon will have difficulty in deciding whether or not to operate since Ian is 85 and in poor health otherwise, so it might not be possible. Time will tell. Prayers are being sent up!

Gayle is anxiously trying to master the art of injecting Ian twice a day with an anti-coagulant that is necessary to prevent a stroke, since he is highly susceptible to them and has been on Warfarin for several years. That has been discontinued and a twice-a-day injectable anti-coagulant that is easier to counter-act if necessary has been prescribed. To say the least, nursing was never a career choice for Gayle, but she seems to have been forced into a non-professional form of it now and earlier in the care of her late husband. Again, prayers are being sent up for guidance, patience and endurance.

Present circumstances have sent us in search of some inspiration and these quotes have helped.

Though no longer writing, when he can stay awake and alert, Ian takes great pleasure in reading one of his published books. Right now he is concentrating on our children’s book, Jake, Little Jimmy & Big Louie, chuckling from time to time and marveling that he ever managed to write it. The latest chuckle came when he pointed out a section where he had brought in a Scottish reflection to his fictional story. It reminded Gayle how, as the past editor of a thematic magazine, her life often seemed to reflect whatever theme was being worked on at the moment. Quoted below is the passage Ian read aloud:

“Some months later, the week after Jake’s twelfth birthday, another problem appeared. And Jake was sure a certain kid was the cause of everything getting all messed up again. As far as Jake was concerned, he didn’t want to go through any more troubles. But that little kid appeared at his door and sure screwed things up for Jake in a BIG way!

“Now Jake’s Grandpa was an old Scotsman who loved the poetry of the even-older Scotsman, named Robert Burns. Even Dad had started quoting some old sayings of Burns’, so it wasn’t surprising that a phrase from Burns’ poem “To a Mouse” came into Jake’s mind. He had often heard both Grandpa and Dad say something like, “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft agley”– meaning that you can make really good plans but they can often go wrong. However it was stated, Jake thought, the saying must apply to 12-year-old boys too, for things certainly did go wrong for Jake—well, for a little while anyway.”

 

We rejoice that Ian has these writings to fall back on. They help to jog his failing memory and keep his spirits up. It’s good to always look for the silver lining in the inevitable clouds. Peace be with us all.

2015 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,300 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 38 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

BODY AND SPIRIT: LIFE’S LESSONS REINFORCED

BODY AND SPIRIT: LIFE’S LESSONS REINFORCED

 

Through the years, Gayle has shared the following with friends who are recovering from accidents or lengthy hospitalizations. Sunday she learned another friend was coping with a fractured ankle after falling on skies as she was getting off a chair lift and was jostled or startled by an over-anxious skate boarder. Here’s to a good healing, Pat! Gayle can’t blame a skate boarder for a previous accident she experienced. She was the over-anxious one wanting to spy a bird building a nest on her roof. And she never did see the darn bird! Perhaps this is what it looked like.

Bird building a nest on roof-bartramsgarden.org

 

Life’s Lessons Reinforced by Gayle Johannesson (later Moore-Morrans)
adapted from an editorial originally published in Esprit magazine, 1999, presented at a Lake Chapala Society Writer’s Group in Ajijic, Mexico, 2005

One fine Manitoba day in early May 1999, I eagerly awaited getting home after a long day at my editing job. After seven months of winter, Winnipeg was a glorious place to be and I planned to spend a long evening on my deck enjoying the warm air, extended sunshine and birdsong. As soon as I walked in, my daughter excitedly shouted, “Mum, you should check it out. I think a bird is building a nest on our roof.”

Of course, I can never leave well enough alone, so had to immediately trot out to the deck to investigate. I jumped up onto one of the benches surrounding our hexagonal deck table and then onto the table, but wasn’t close enough to view the roof. Jumping down, I hauled the table and bench closer and again hopped up onto the bench and then to the table. This time, however, I landed on a corner where there wasn’t a table leg. Down I crashed—all of three feet, mind you—slamming my right leg on the bench and landing wedged against the railing of the deck on my back with my right arm pinned under me. My frantic screams quickly brought my daughter and next-door neighbours to the scene. Soon the fire department and ambulance service arrived. I have little recollection of their rescue other than a vague feeling of horror as they threw all the furniture off our high deck and struggled to get me into a neck brace and stretcher, down the ten steep steps to the back yard and into the ambulance.

All this resulted in seven and a half hours of emergency surgery to repair what turned out to be seven breaks in the right ankle, knee and upper arm. I woke up in considerable pain with 17 pieces of metal in me—a rod and screws through the humerus, a four-inch plate in the fibula, bolts to try to hold the crushed tibial plateau at the bottom of my knee together, numerous screws to keep all these things in place, and, of course, a huge leg cast and arm immobilizer. Because of the multiple breaks it was a long time before I could get out of a wheelchair and onto crutches. My doctor declared me “architecturally challenged” because my bi-level house necessitated going down eight steps to the lower level or up eight steps to the upper level. Thus, I was destined to spend three and a half months in hospital, only being discharged in mid-August when I could finally maneuver steps on my crutches.

Most of my fourteen weeks was spent in a rehabilitation hospital, braving four hours of physiotherapy daily and gradually adding occupational and hydrotherapy sessions. I learned quickly, however, that my injuries were minor compared to most of my fellow patients, the majority of whom had suffered severe strokes, spinal cord injuries, complications from multiple sclerosis or loss of limbs due to accidents or diabetes.

What kept me relatively sane throughout all this was my editorial job. Luckily, my quarterly magazine was due to go to press a week after my accident and most of my work had been done. Our publisher quickly secured the services of one of our writers to complete my editorial and put the thing to bed. One week later I started serious work on the next issue, clumsily using my left hand and the telephone. Soon I became a one-hand whiz on my laptop computer, with the modem enabling me to communicate with writers, the office, our art designer and printer, aided by daily visits from our secretary who delivered papers back and forth. The hospital staff got quite used to me burning the midnight oil at the computer, probably considering me a bit nuts though they were very supportive as long as I didn’t keep my three roommates awake.

I’d like to share with you my editorial for the Fall 1999 issue of Esprit, the magazine of Evangelical Lutheran Women. The magazine is thematic and, as coincidence would have it, the theme for the issue which was finishing up just as I left hospital was “Body and Spirit.” I entitled it, “Life’s Lessons Reinforced.”

“Beginning to write this column brings me full circle since the last issue of Esprit. Then, my horrendous fall and seven breaks in right leg and arm bones resulted in the need for someone else to write this column. Now, after 14 weeks in hospital (most of it in rehabilitation), I have two more days before going home and this editorial is due. What a place this has been to glean ideas for the topic, “Body and Spirit!” I would not have chosen the classroom, but every minute in this environment has reinforced some important lessons in life.

“Lesson #1: I am a combination of body and spirit—an integrated whole that cannot be divided into neat categories of spiritual, emotional or physical. Wound the body and the spirit is wounded. Wound the spirit and the body is often equally affected.

“Lesson #2: It’s OK to cry. Roommates or caregivers need to allow one the chance to release emotions without feeling that the crying has to be explained or “fixed.” And, I needed to give myself permission to cry without feeling guilty or “stupid.”

“Lesson #3: Private moments are precious. I only realized how much so when I didn’t have any. Grasp them, however and whenever they come.

“Lesson #4: The social part of my humanity is equally important. The need for others is as basic as food, water or shelter. The warmth and touch a person receives or doesn’t receive from family or friends can have a profound impact on healing. What a contrast I saw in the progress of two roommates who had had similar strokes. One had no family present. Her four children, in another province, neither visited nor wrote. One son called a few times, promised the doctor he’d visit and take her home with him and then never showed up. Only one friend ever visited and then rarely. Her body healed enough to leave hospital but her spirits were low. The other woman, an Inuit from the far north, arrived with eight family members in tow. They attended therapy sessions with her, assisted in her care and kept her in their midst except for sleeping. Despite considerable disability and almost complete lack of English skills, she progressed with a cheerful demeanor, appearing confident and content.

“Lesson #5: Communication is a wonderful release. If someone will listen, it’s good to be allowed to unload a frustration, share a pain or rejoice in an improvement. When I’m the one feeling up to it, it’s also important to allow the other person to unload on me.

“Lesson #6: God loves a cheerful caregiver—and so do patients. Caregivers love a cheerful patient as well—but patients often find it hard to be cheerful all by themselves. Cheer travels, though, so let’s start with the caregiver.

“Lesson #7: Many of us who have prided ourselves as caregivers have a hard time accepting having to be cared for. It’s a humbling experience to have to ask for everything one needs. Proverbs tells us “humility goes before honour.” However, it sometimes takes a little assertiveness to make your needs known—one shouldn’t be too humble to ask.

“Lesson #8: The little things in life can give the greatest pleasure. When progress towards healing is slow, it’s important to note each little step forward. How uplifting it can be to have a therapist point out the centimeter improvement in bending or straightening a broken knee or the slight movement of a stroke-paralyzed hand. A woman I’ll call “Jane,” silenced by brain injury, one day surprised us by suddenly singing out, “When you’re smiling, the whole world smiles at you!” How we celebrated those words, even though it might be a long time before she could repeat them.

“Lesson #9: The spirit of God dwells within me. The chances for meditation and interaction with the source of my being are endless. The Lord’s presence is there whether I’m lying on a stretcher in a speeding ambulance; being anointed with oil in a healing ritual before surgery; chanting silently God’s assurance from the book of Isaiah, “You are precious in my sight, and honoured and I love you” (Isaiah 43:4a) while painfully trying to turn the arm ergometer; anxiously taking the first steps on crutches; talking about losses and gains with my roommates; suffering neglect from too-busy medical staff; receiving a hot pack or massage from caring medical staff; praying behind curtains closed around my bed nook; or lying sleepless gazing at God’s beautiful night of moon and clouds outside my window. God is always there to sustain and comfort me. It’s good to be healing in body and spirit. Praise the Lord!

Gwynne & Gayle on crutches-Aug 1999_edited-1August 1999, Finally home after 3 1/2 months in rehab. Gwynne, just back from a summer in Norway and Gayle on her crutches. At left is part of our high deck and the steps I had to be carried down on a stretcher in May.

ANNOUNCING PUBLICATION OF OUR LATEST BOOK: JAKE, LITTLE JIMMY & BIG LOUIE

 

 

JLJBL Book Cover

Finally the day has arrived to announce that our latest book is now available for order. We are proud of the product and hope many of you will be anxious to read it. We think adults will enjoy the book as much as children or teenagers will.  The book is written on the pre-teen reading level. You can order a copy online at the following link: https://www.createspace.com/5114278.

Signed copies will also be available from the authors at a Book Launch and subsequent book readings in Vernon, British Columbia, probably in the month of February.

Sometime in February 2015 the book should also be available for order online through amazon or from book stores. Unless you want to take advantage of free postage through amazon by placing an order at a minimum of $25, we request that you place your order through Create Space as listed above as we get a larger royalty and you receive the book at the same price and same shipping and handling fees as through other methods of online ordering.

For those who want to read the book in an e-book format, we will be listing it on amazon as a Kindle book shortly.

Below is the information from the book’s back cover:

Has a pet ever held a special place in your heart?

Though written for children, this book will appeal to pet lovers of all ages. It tells the story of Jake, an 11-year-old boy who adopts Little Jimmy, a budgie bird, born without wings. Jake learns to help Little Jimmy live and feel like a very special bird.

Later, a rescued baby chick is literally dumped into Jake’s hands. “Thing,” as Jake originally names him, soon insists on his own name, becoming “Louie.” Eventually Big Louie grows into a huge and very smart raven. Though he didn’t want the raven at first, Jake soon realizes that Big Louie has become an important part of the family who comes to the rescue when Little Jimmy gets into dangerous situations. One adventure follows another and the three become fast friends who really love each other.

Author Ian Moore-Morrans had ample experience raising his own Jimmy, a cockatiel, from newly-hatched to adulthood. Ian has used that knowledge in portraying realistic characterizations of both birds, including intelligence, comic actions, dependence and independence, plus an ability to “talk” and a knack for finding a very special place within a family.

Co-author Gayle Moore-Morrans, also Ian’s wife and editor, has added her own touch to the story, giving a spiritual dimension to Jake’s family and his decisions in caring for and loving his pets.

For that special “kid’s touch,” Ian and Gayle invited two of their great-grandchildren to collaborate on Jake, Little Jimmy & Big Louie. Great-grandson Leland German was their age-appropriate consultant and Great-granddaughter Hannah German served as the illustrator. They are pictured at the top of the following collage.

Wee Yins' collage-2014

TO OUR ‘WEE YINS’

Our book,” Jake, Little Jimmy & Big Louie,” is dedicated to the eleven children in our lives, three of them born since we first started blogging a draft of the book  almost two years ago. They are our youngsters (or “wee yins,” as Ian would call them in his Scottish vernacular).

In the center is a picture of Ian signing a stack of his books and one of Gayle busy at one of her Location Writing sessions. We are surrounded by photos of these very special children who make up our blended family: from top left and clockwise, Leland, Hannah, Logan, Eva, Gustav, Haylee, Brayden, Alex, Lexi, Madison and Caleigh. We love them all!

 

 

THE CHRISTMAS STORY ACCORDING TO GWYNNE

THE CHRISTMAS STORY ACCORDING TO GWYNNE

 

“Last year it was Ian’s turn to share some excerpts from his book, From Poverty to Poverty: A Scotsman Encounters Canada, about his “non-Christmases” as a child as well as a very special New Year’s Eve in Scotland when his prematurely-born daughter’s life was saved by a bottle of Scotch whisky.

This year it is Gayle’s turn to share some of her holiday writings. She has been super-busy these last months putting the final touches on our next-to-be-published book, Jake, Little Jimmy & Big Louie, plus rehearsing for the various musical groups she belongs to and then singing in their concerts or caroling at seniors’ or nursing homes and at Silver Star Mountain Village. Those duties are winding down now and so she has found time to offer her special holiday gift to readers, a play entitled “The Christmas Story According to Gwynne.”

This play originated in 1981 when Gayle, her late husband Gus and daughter Gwynne were living in Frankfurt am Main, Germany. Gus was serving as a Lutheran pastor to a German parish and Gayle was enjoying her role as homemaker and mother. Their daughter Gwynne was a precocious four-year-old who kept her mother hopping. She talked almost non-stop in what her parents called “Gerglish,” a unique combination of German and English. Mama usually spoke English with her and Papa almost always spoke German with her; thus Gwynne understood both languages, spoke pretty good German but found it hard to express herself totally in English. She loved to have books read to her in either language and soaked up knowledge like a sponge. When the spontaneous play that follows began, Gayle realized that Gwynne had grasped the main aspects of the Christmas story but had added some unique twists to relate them to her own life and understanding. That evening, when Gayle related the story in great detail to Gus, he encouraged her to write it all down before the nuances of the story faded from her memory. She did so that very evening. To aid in the reader’s understanding, however, she “translated” everything into English. Other than that, however, the story is as exact to how it actually played out as Gayle’s memory could make it. The drawings we include with this story are Gwynne’s, drawn at her mother’s urging in the days following the play’s inception. We are also including a photo of Gwynne at age 4 dressed as St. Lucia, prepared to make the rounds of our apartment house to bring Saffronsbrod and Pepparkakor (Swedish treats) to our neighbours on the morning of St. Lucia Day, December 13th. That date is the start of the Swedish Christmas season and Gayle’s family heritage on her mother’s side is Swedish. (Yes, those are real lighted candles on the Lucia crown she is wearing! Because of that, Gwynne did this duty rather reluctantly.)

Gwynne as Lucia - age 4

Now, many years later, Gwynne lives in Norway, with her Norwegian husband, their three-year-old son and one-year-old daughter. She is employed as a teacher/librarian in a British International School, where they also celebrate St. Lucia Day. As an adult, Gwynne continues to nurture her unique imagination, teaches Sunday School, loves to play with and read to her children and has a house full of more books, toys and craft projects than one can imagine.

 

The Christmas Story According to Gwynne

By Gayle and Gwynne Johannesson, Winnipeg, Manitoba

Reprinted from a 1981 Johannesson Christmas letter and later from Esprit, the magazine of Evangelical Lutheran Women, November/December 1993 issue. Copyright © 1981 Gayle Johannesson; 2014 © Gayle Moore-Morrans.

 

Characters:

Gwynne (G) who also plays the Angel, Joseph, Pastor, and King Herod (in turn)

Mama (M) who also plays Mary, Joseph, Innkeeper (in turn)

Scene:

Gwynne, age 4, a budding actor, plays while Mama sews. Since early in Advent she has become fascinated with the Christmas story, has had it read and told to her, has seen it in pictures and manger scenes, has sung of it and heard it sung—at home, in church, in kindergarten, on television and at the Frankfurt Christmas Market. Now she wants to act it out—in her own unique way.

INTRODUCTION

G: Mama, let’s play “When Jesus was a Little Baby.” I’ll be the angel and you be Mary. (Exits the room in which Mama is sewing; re-enters, flapping arms.)

 

SCENE 1 – Mary’s garden, Nazareth

G: Fly, fly, fly. (pause) Hi, Mary!

Mary for Christmas Story

M: Hello! Who are you?

G: I’m the angel. I have good news for you. God sent me to tell you you’re going to have a baby in your tummy and he’s going to be the Messiah and save everyone from their sins. I think you better name him Jesus.

M: What wonderful news! You tell God I’m very happy to be chosen to be Jesus’ mother and I’m ready to do whatever God says.

G: Okay. ‘Bye now. Fly, fly, fly. (Exits, flapping arms.) (aside) Now you be Jofes. I’m still the angel.

 

SCENE 2 – Joseph’s home, Nazareth

Mr

G: (Enters, flapping arms.) Fly, fly, fly. Hey, Jofes, wake up! I’ve got good news for you. God is giving Mary a baby in her tummy and then you have to both go to Bethlehem to be counted. The baby’s name is Jesus and he’s going to be the Messiah and save you from your sins.

M:  That’s great! I’ll get ready to travel right away.

G: Bye. Fly, fly, fly. (Exits) (aside) Now you’re Mary and I’m Jofes.

 

SCENE 3 – Road to Bethlehem

G: Don’t worry Mary; we’re going to soon be in Bethlehem:

M: I hope so, Joseph. I’m very tired and I think the donkey is, too. Besides that, I think it’s soon time for the baby to be born.

G: Look, Mary; there’s Bethlehem: Let’s find a hotel room: (aside) Now you be the hotelman.

G: Knock, knock. Do you have room for us?

M: No, I’m sorry. We are all full.

G: All the hotels are full? Can’t you please find us some room?

M: Well, I have a stable in back where the animals stay. There’s an empty clean stall if you don’t mind sleeping on hay.

G: Well, is it quiet? We’re going to have a baby, you know; so it’s got to be quiet.

M: Oh, yes. There’s only one old cow and a sheep and two lambs and they don’t make much noise.

G: Good. Come on, Mary. Let’s go. (aside) Now you’re Mary again.

 

SCENE 4 – Bethlehem stable

G: I’ll fix up a bed for us in the hay. (pause) Oh, oh. We’ve got a problem.

M: What’s wrong?

G: There’s no phone.

Mama: Now Gwynne. Don’t you remember, when Jesus lived on earth it was many years ago and they didn’t have telephones. Anyway, why do you need a telephone?

Gwynne: Well, for heaven’s sake, Mama, we’ve got to call a pastor. I just remembered Jofes and Mary didn’t get married. They’re going to have a baby soon so they better get married!

Mama: Can’t you get a pastor in Bethlehem?

Gwynne: Nope. He’s far away. Well, if there isn’t any phone then we can’t play. (pause) I know—the angel can get a phone. (Exits and enters again, flapping arms.)

M: Oh, Mr. Angel, can you get us a phone so we can call a pastor to marry us before our baby is born?

G: Sure. (Exits and re-enters with phone.) Now I’m Jofes.

G: Ring, ring, ring. Hello, Pastor Johannesson? Can you come and marry us? We’re going to have a baby soon. You can find us easy, just follow the star and when it stops we’re in the red house.

Pastor J for Christmas Story

(Angel flies out, removing telephone. Re-enters as pastor, performs ceremony while M. plays Mary and Joseph in turn. G. exits and re-enters as Joseph. Fixes up a bed for Mary in the hay, settles donkey (hee-haws), talks to cow (moos) and sheep (baas). G. exits and re-enters with doll in cradle.)

 

SCENE 5 – Next morning, Bethlehem

G: Mary, wake up. Look at the nice manger I made for the baby you had in your tummy. Let’s name him Jesus. You wrap him up and I’ll put him in bed.

M: There, he’s sleeping now. Say, do you hear voices outside? It sounds like shepherds talking and they say an angel choir told them to come to see our baby.

G: Yes, and listen to the song they’re singing.

G&M: (singing) Glo-o-o-o-o, o-o-o-o-o, o-o-o-o-oria! Glory to God in the highest!

manger scene for Christmas story

G: Come on in. (Extends hand to imaginary shepherds.) You can see the baby, but be quiet—cuz he’s sleeping. (Gently strokes the doll’s cheek.)  Isn’t he cute? He’s the Messiah and is going to save you from your sins.

Gwynne: Oh no, no, no! (Runs from room, prances around in hallway.) Get that baby out of here! I don’t want a boy baby; I want a girl baby!

Mama: What’s wrong now? Don’t you want to play anymore?

King Herod for Christmas Story

Gwynne: Oh, Mama, can’t you see? I’m the wicked king. I’m going to throw all the babies in the river. (Exits, re-enters flapping arms.)

G: You’re going to have to get out of here and go to Egypt for a while. It’s a long trip so you better pack lots of things. You can have picnics on the way. I’ll tell you when the wicked king is dead so you can come back. Don’t worry; God will take care of you and I’ll get things ready. (Exits, flapping arms.)

 

SCENE  6 – Somewhere in Egypt

(G: enters pulling a wagon loaded with dishes, doll clothes, tablecloth, cookies, bananas and a pillow.)

G: Now we’re in the camper. (Spreads tablecloth on floor, sets out dishes and food. Sits down with doll on lap.) You’re getting to be a big boy, Jesus. Here, have a cookie. (Turns to Mary) Isn’t it fun to be camping?

M: Yes, it’s nice here; but I’ll be glad when we can go home to Nazareth.

G: Oh, don’t worry. The old wicked king should be dead soon. Hey, I think I hear the angel. (Exits, re-enters flapping arms.)

G: Fly, fly, fly. That wicked king is dead, so you can come back. Your baby’s safe now. (pause) Say, Jesus sure is a big boy now. That’s a long trip and he’ll be too heavy to carry. I know; I’ll help you. You two take the donkey back and Jesus can fly with me. (Exits, flapping one arm and carrying doll under the other.)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!