My Dad


My family

That’s me – bottom left


This would have been my Father’s birthday,
he was born in 1908.
A quiet, gentle, caring man
and as Husband and Daddy – first rate.

He loved my Mother very much,
he was courteous and kind,
soft-spoken and supportive—
which are the ties that bind.

We were a family of seven—
three girls, two boys, Mum and Dad,
all born and raised in England,
then to Canada, “opportunities to add”.

He helped a lot of people
to understand their spiritual self,
by sharing his knowledge of the Bible
and the textbook – Science & Health.

He left a legacy of love
with all who knew him well.
That’s the best legacy to leave,
still felt in stories we tell.

Happy Birthday Dad.

Jean Kay




Early morning.
Grandchildren slept over.
Four year old granddaughter
in bed with me to “do our books”.
Mine—colour expression and poetry,
hers—coloured picture.

Books done.
Snuggle time.
Arm around her.
Soft face on my shoulder.
Quiet time.

Silence broken
“Granny tell me that word.”
“What word darling?”
“You know the one you call me sometimes.”

“You mean ‘precious’?”
“Yes, that one.”

She snuggles in closer.

“Maya, you are my precious girl
And I love you very much.”

Small arm hugs around my neck.
Precious feeling.
Precious moment.
Precious memory.
Precious girl.

Jean Kay