Launch of the New Building...

I ordered and got a lovely sunny day to launch the new building on the 29th March, 2014. This is Anna who I believe I have known for probably 10 years, running around with a cape. One of the things I love about our kids is that they might start off backwards in coming forward, but they don't end up there! It was, even if I say it myself, a great day.

The new building is named for Moira Preston who volunteered for almost 40 years. Her son, Anthony, made a speech. Ian Tabbron from the Arts Council made a speech. And I made a speech.

Then, we shared about 8 snippets/sections/films of things we are currently working on. This was one of those happy accidents when you don't get funding for what you really want to do, but it turns out what you wanted to do couldn't match what you were already doing. I have lost count of the people who said they were overwhelmed by it, or moved and the point? Well without the Moiras making this difference in the first place none of this stuff could take place… not now, not in the future.

On the Wednesday (evening) I wrote this poem. Bit late in the day! But all the kids who'd been involved in the evening - about 80 (of the 500-600 we work with each week) took to the stage. The poem was delivered by a remarkable performer - Naomi and she delivered the poem, and the rest - the other kids - each holding a tiny torch in the half-light of the stage joined her as it drew to a close.

Here is the poem (not my best work, but you know it said what I wanted to say about Moira, and about all those people like her who make a difference each day, not for recognition, but because it is the right thing to do.)

The light flickers,
sends a signal into the night.
Says I’m still here.
Blinking.
Stops you thinking you know everything.

Reminds you that there’s stuff beneath,
far below, reachable with help.
And other things beyond that, that can’t be breached.
Because there aren't always answers.
or ways in.

Like time – which passes both fast and slow –
there’s more we need to know about it.
You think, maybe I can control it?
Slow it down. Speed it up.
Make the good things last and the other stuff
- the dark things - pass in a flash.

But no. Not that. Never that.

Like people. There are those who live each moment
as if it is their very last and others
who just live to give all. To others.
The slow and steady, and the overlooked
that sort who keep the world turning…
by doing good.
Keep the light burning,
by simple acts.
Small things. Big things.
Making connections, and doing good.
Not in a showy way but…

And doing good…
sometimes it’s misunderstood.
It really is.

But why?

When doing good is like the light,
a flicker, something that sends a signal.
Links us up. Like the beacons on the hill
one joining to another.
All lights to one port.
All lines to one centre, goal and hope.


A special light that connects.
It’s true.

What you are is what you do.
Or don’t do.
Whoever is watching you.

If many come and join, it grows.
The circle of light.
Many hands connected. Joined up.
Otherwise?
You’re cast adrift.

I think, what will there be when I am gone?

A hole shaped like my soul in the world?
A space in the universe I belonged?
Or nothing? A void?

Where will I be when the flickering light
stops flickering and there’s only the dark, dark pitch
of night?

It’s those of us who remember you.
Wave after wave of those who step into your shoes
Whose lives you changed by switching
the light in the first place.
Wave after wave of voices,
better choices,
memories,
and tales told by those who knew you,
shared.
Wave after wave of those who never knew you,
here or there because of what you do
what you did whoever was watching you.
Wave after wave of possibilities
because of you…
Light after light flickering on…
staying lit.

And when I’m older, what will I remember of now?
The sense, the flavour, the essence?

Wave after wave,
Nothing can grow unless you do
It’s the truth. It starts small, a single light and
it catches hold and light after light after light springs on.
It’s true – wave after wave.

Wave after wave of light?

Wave after wave of light.



(I didn't get a picture of 80 young people with tiny lights in the gloom, lighting the way - I had nothing left! But I'm hopeful someone did!)