Posting for Mama Ignota Eloise during one her most favorite seasons of the year... Holy Week. As she lives quiet this week, she always said while there is "breath there is life" Most of you will recall that mama/grandma went to church almost every day during holy Week. Walking through McGregor Gully and then taking two buses to get to St. Lukes Cross Roads. She has many great hymns which would she sing constantly. "When I survey the wondrous cross", "On a green Hill far away" "Jesus Christ is Risen today". When you go by her bedside this week sing a couple lines for her. Another of her all time favorites is regarding lasting treasures. The woman at the well. I will post words under poetry soon.
George Anthony,(Orocabessa) Mama's first child and only son gave me the information which got the Berris Mair(of Nottinhamshire) family tree/search going. (Of course, I was referred to him through Joan Pauline.) Take note of the sequence of things. Everyone of Ignota's children appear to possess piece of this amazing puzzle. I also believe that all including grandchildren will continue to contribute to this marvelous unfolding. (Let the power of the Holy Spirit rule and reign over all.)
When fireflies no longer light the night sky, when the fluteman’s music dies down,band members disperse, her poet friend caps his pen for another season. Yet she lies wordless, taking labored breaths. Mama said, there would be days of the unthinkable: the swinging twisting streets silenced; the voices of her children fading. She could no longer dive into the Caribbean Sea, East Indian mangoes no longer sweet, Mama said tears or no tears, La luta continua.
Before the strong women Ignota had a strong young man He always worked hard striving for success Keeping company with Ethel was his duty call His young family started to grow From tallying bananas to operating his trucks For him Breadnut hill maybe his Spanish Jar He climbed up that hill,he blasted the rocks And with his bare hands he carved out a road High above the Caribbean Sea he now builds on solid rock.
Ignota E. Minott is strong-she has one strong son and five strong daughters.
Strong Women
Working, building moving on the women all strived to get ahead head strong, heart strong willing to work hard strong women pushing forward to the mark -- The Spanish Jar Seems impossible,look too far,and too hard but the eyes of the strong women see the light from afar, one step at a time sometimes two Strong women move foward to the mark -- The Spanish jar Minds focused, eyes set on the mark forward strong women move closer to the mark look upward and forward eyes set on the mark Strong women moving forward to the mark foward and onward we march to find -- The Spanish Jar
Barbara 2/25/2011 edited 4/19/11 to add the spanish jar
May Mama have sweet dreams as she sleeps tonight knowing that we are searching for her so she can hear about her Dad's long lost Spanish Jar.
Like a Woman at the well I was seeking For things that could not satisfy And then I heard my savior calling draw from the well that never shall run dry Chorus: Fill my cup Lord, I lift it up Lord come and quench the thirsting of my soul Bread of heaven feed me till I want no more fill my cup fill it up, and make me whole.
Here is a poem my mom, Jackie, wrote sometime last year for her beloved mother, Ignota Eloise. It is entitled, Red Rose.
Red roses by my doorway Red petals across my steps planted in my pathway Mother's greatest gift from you oh Lord and then to me. Red roses in my way.
Mama's words may not always make sense her pain and groans so great But Lord, she planted red roses at our doorsteps which speak words of love and praise God in a red rose is so awesome transcending a thousand miles
Red roses at my doorstep Rose petals strewn in my way speak a myriad loving things Mama's lips can't say
She planted many gardens touched many lives Beautiful petals lifted high Dewey tears resting still on marvelous three pronged leaves the trinity revealed. Thorns upon his brow, sword pierced through his side, His blood shed for humankind A gift for you and me Forgive them Lord, who do not know the victory is already won.
A rose, a rose, a red rose So beautiful! She cries. A God so awesome, life's greatest mysteries unfold So perfectly formed Mama touches the red rose
When man fails to satisfy, the red rose provides abundant love and grace. Overflowing joys, the rose unfolds Each petal unlocks its secrets from within the soul In the early mist of the morning, before the sun comes up, Mama knows Our God unlocks the inner doors of the heart of the red rose.
I love you mama. May the Lord bless you now and always. Written just for you, Jackie.
Sorry the previous poem. I obviously wrote Oct. 2010.
I came across one of grandma's prayers this morning, which is fitting for today. She often received written prayers and Christian materials from various sources in the U.S. and JA.
Here is an excerpt from a prayer I found:
"I trust the wonderful capacity of my body to resist disease; I trust its capacity to counteract infection; I trust the strong life currents flowing through me to bring freedom from pain, to bring ease, rest, release. I relax and let Jesus Christ heal me.
My faith in Christ as a mightly healing power enables his perfect work to be done in me. I hold steadfast to this faith, and new life and new strength pour through me, making me whole....Help me to keep my thoughts, words, and attitudes positive so that I may bring a real blessing to those who need it. Help me to know the truth of your healing power, mighty in the midst of every need, even now working to heal, renew, restore. Keep me firmly centered in the realization that no condition is beyond Your power to heal...my mind takes on the peaceful calm of faith, the faith that makes for wholeness. This day every healing need is take care of in the name of Jesus Christ." Amen
Here is a poem, I wrote on 10/9/10, entitled Black Women.
Black Women Creators of the earth Embody the strength to encourage to love, to cry, to pray to realize that our strength comes from Him, God Almighty Our Lord, Our Savior, Our Protector Our Comforter, Our Companion, Our Guide
Yahweh created black women women of color to be the rock of this world
Black women Embody the Endurance to press on the endurance to keep giving the endurance to keep loving the endurance to keep forgiving the endurance to keep learning the endurance to keep listening the endurance to keep motivating
I am hoping to contact family members of Mr Berris Mair, of Nottinghamshire, in relation to a legal matter here in the UK. I would be grateful if they could contact me at andrew@baverstockandco.co.uk
Posting for Mama Ignota Eloise during one her most favorite seasons of the year... Holy Week. As she lives quiet this week, she always said while there is "breath there is life" Most of you will recall that mama/grandma went to church almost every day during holy Week. Walking through McGregor Gully and then taking two buses to get to St. Lukes Cross Roads. She has many great hymns which would she sing constantly.
ReplyDelete"When I survey the wondrous cross", "On a green Hill far away" "Jesus Christ is Risen today". When you go by her bedside this week sing a couple lines for her. Another of her all time favorites is regarding lasting treasures. The woman at the well. I will post words under poetry soon.
Love& Passover Blessings Jackie Minott-Anderson
George Anthony,(Orocabessa) Mama's first child and only son gave me the information which got the Berris Mair(of Nottinhamshire) family tree/search going. (Of course, I was referred to him through Joan Pauline.) Take note of the sequence of things. Everyone of Ignota's children appear to possess piece of this amazing puzzle. I also believe that all including grandchildren will continue to contribute to this marvelous unfolding. (Let the power of the Holy Spirit rule and reign over all.)
ReplyDeleteLove immeasurable
Jackie
Mama Said There Would Be Days Like This
ReplyDeleteWhen fireflies no longer
light the night sky, when the fluteman’s
music dies down,band members
disperse, her poet friend caps
his pen for another season.
Yet she lies wordless,
taking labored breaths. Mama said,
there would be days of the unthinkable:
the swinging twisting streets silenced;
the voices of her children fading. She could
no longer dive into the Caribbean Sea,
East Indian mangoes no longer sweet,
Mama said tears or no tears,
La luta continua.
Solid Rock
ReplyDeleteBefore the strong women Ignota had a strong young man
He always worked hard striving for success
Keeping company with Ethel was his duty call
His young family started to grow
From tallying bananas to operating his trucks
For him Breadnut hill maybe his Spanish Jar
He climbed up that hill,he blasted the rocks
And with his bare hands he carved out a road
High above the Caribbean Sea he now builds on solid rock.
Barbara/Jackie
Happy belated birthday to George
Ignota E. Minott is strong-she has one strong son and five strong daughters.
ReplyDeleteStrong Women
Working, building moving on
the women all strived to get ahead
head strong, heart strong willing to
work hard strong women pushing forward
to the mark -- The Spanish Jar
Seems impossible,look too far,and too hard
but the eyes of the strong women see the light
from afar, one step at a time sometimes two
Strong women move foward to the mark -- The Spanish jar Minds focused, eyes set on the
mark forward strong women move closer to the
mark look upward and forward eyes set on the mark Strong women moving forward to the mark
foward and onward we march to find -- The Spanish Jar
Barbara 2/25/2011 edited 4/19/11 to add the spanish jar
May Mama have sweet dreams as she sleeps tonight knowing that we are searching for her so she can hear about her Dad's long lost Spanish Jar.
A verse from Favorite song from Mama:
ReplyDeleteLike a Woman at the well I was seeking
For things that could not satisfy
And then I heard my savior calling
draw from the well that never shall run dry
Chorus:
Fill my cup Lord, I lift it up Lord come and quench the thirsting of my soul
Bread of heaven feed me till I want no more
fill my cup fill it up, and make me whole.
I am enjoying reading these posts. I like your poems Auntie Babs and Auntie Winnie. Love, Tams
ReplyDeleteHere is a poem my mom, Jackie, wrote sometime last year for her beloved mother, Ignota Eloise. It is entitled, Red Rose.
ReplyDeleteRed roses by my doorway
Red petals across my steps
planted in my pathway
Mother's greatest gift
from you oh Lord
and then to me.
Red roses in my way.
Mama's words
may not always make sense
her pain and groans so great
But Lord,
she planted red roses at our doorsteps
which speak words of love and praise
God in a red rose is so awesome
transcending a thousand miles
Red roses at my doorstep
Rose petals strewn in my way
speak a myriad loving things
Mama's lips can't say
She planted many gardens
touched many lives
Beautiful petals lifted high
Dewey tears resting still
on marvelous three pronged leaves
the trinity revealed.
Thorns upon his brow,
sword pierced through his side,
His blood shed for humankind
A gift for you and me
Forgive them Lord, who do not know
the victory is already won.
A rose, a rose, a red rose
So beautiful! She cries.
A God so awesome, life's greatest mysteries unfold
So perfectly formed
Mama touches the red rose
When man fails to satisfy,
the red rose provides abundant love and grace.
Overflowing joys, the rose unfolds
Each petal unlocks its secrets from within the soul
In the early mist of the morning,
before the sun comes up,
Mama knows
Our God unlocks the inner doors
of the heart
of the red rose.
I love you mama. May the Lord bless you now and always. Written just for you, Jackie.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteSorry the previous poem. I obviously wrote Oct. 2010.
ReplyDeleteI came across one of grandma's prayers this morning, which is fitting for today. She often received written prayers and Christian materials from various sources in the U.S. and JA.
Here is an excerpt from a prayer I found:
"I trust the wonderful capacity of my body to resist disease; I trust its capacity to counteract infection; I trust the strong life currents flowing through me to bring freedom from pain, to bring ease, rest, release. I relax and let Jesus Christ heal me.
My faith in Christ as a mightly healing power enables his perfect work to be done in me. I hold steadfast to this faith, and new life and new strength pour through me, making me whole....Help me to keep my thoughts, words, and attitudes positive so that I may bring a real blessing to those who need it. Help me to know the truth of your healing power, mighty in the midst of every need, even now working to heal, renew, restore. Keep me firmly centered in the realization that no condition is beyond Your power to heal...my mind takes on the peaceful calm of faith, the faith that makes for wholeness. This day every healing need is take care of in the name of Jesus Christ." Amen
Here is a poem, I wrote on 10/9/10, entitled Black Women.
ReplyDeleteBlack Women
Creators of the earth
Embody the strength to encourage
to love, to cry, to pray
to realize that our strength
comes from Him, God Almighty
Our Lord, Our Savior, Our Protector
Our Comforter, Our Companion, Our Guide
Yahweh created black women
women of color
to be the rock of this world
Black women
Embody the Endurance to press on
the endurance to keep giving
the endurance to keep loving
the endurance to keep forgiving
the endurance to keep learning
the endurance to keep listening
the endurance to keep motivating
Black women creators of the earth
Thanks for sharing that beautiful prayer with us Tammy...it resonates deeply at this time...much luv to you....lovely poetic additions...
ReplyDeleteAunty Jackie...your poem red rose is very sincere in its voice and speaks to Grandma's love that transends the limitations of this life..
I have enjoyed all the poetry shared, Our heritage grows stronger everyday!
Blessings and Love!
I am hoping to contact family members of Mr Berris Mair, of Nottinghamshire, in relation to a legal matter here in the UK.
ReplyDeleteI would be grateful if they could contact me at andrew@baverstockandco.co.uk
Thank you for your time.
Best Wishes
Andrew Hodgson