25 – Chester and Chester Cathedral: 22 September 2024

The signs claim that Chester is the most visited city in the whole of the United Kingdom.  Based on my visit to Chester, this claim may even be true.

So far as I could see, the property developers have not yet been given a licence to knock down all of the old buildings and replace them with modern eyesores – at least in the central city area where the ancient city of Chester was established by the Romans. Some of the original Chester City walls still stand.

 
Despite its age and its relatively well preserved buildings, the ancient churches which dot the streets of Chester are clearly falling on hard times.  Saint Peter Church on Eastgate is an ancient and beautiful building in the heart of the bustling Chester city shopping and commercial district.  Wiki claims this about Saint Peter Church.

The church stands on the site of part of the Roman Praetorium, and some of its fabric dates from that time. A church is said to have been built on this site by Ethelfleda in 907. The present church dates from the 14th, 15th and 16th centuries, with modifications in the following three centuries. Formerly, the tower had a spire, which was removed and rebuilt in the 16th century, taken down in the 17th century, then rebuilt and finally removed having been much injured by lightning" in around 1780. In 1849–50, the church was repaired by James Harrison, and in 1886 it was restored by John Douglas, which included the addition of a pyramidal spire.

 Although Saint Peter is a gorgeous building, it seemed to me when I visited it that it probably survives as a “working” church only because part of the main body of the church – the part where worshippers once sat and knelt down when they attended services – has been turned into a coffee shop.  Here is the coffee shop inside Saint Peter Church, Chester; it is indeed a very pleasant coffee shop, but surely it once must have been an extraordinarily vibrant place of worship.  I hope it can once again become a vibrant place of worship.

 

 Chester Cathedral is far more imposing and impressive than Saint Peter Church in Eastgate Street, yet it too seems to have fallen onto hard economic times.  As with Saint Peter Church, I hope Chester Cathedral finds a way to maintain its commitment to the sacred while still surviving economically. 

Chester Cathedral is a collection of many buildings which must have taken many decades to build.  They are all physically joined together to form the one building called Chester Cathedral, but within the complex there is a bewildering array of divisions and different areas. 

This is part of the outside of Chester Cathedral.  It is impossible to take a photo of the whole of the outside of the Cathedral building because it is so big.

Although Chester Cathedral does not charge an admission fee, there is pressure to make a donation.  My donation in Euros was gratefully accepted even though the currency in Britain is the Pound.   

Once in, I began to wander through the maze of Cathedral sections.  I think, but I am not certain, that this photo is of the main Cathedral Nave where the congregation sits while divine services are conducted.  The nave is massive in area and in a cold English winter, attending a service here would require the worshipper to either be immune to the cold or be wrapped up in especially warm clothing.  I suspect most worshippers simply shiver uncontrollably through services in winter.

 

Here is yet another of the internal sections of Chester Cathedral.  I have no idea of its official name, but like most of the Cathedral, it is certainly imposing.

 

  For me, the outstanding feature of the Cathedral was an inner courtyard garden.  The garden is dominated by a giant statue of a merman and a mermaid engaged in an intimate kiss.  In its completely chaste way, the statue of the fish people is quite erotic.

I finished my tour of the Cathedral feeling exhausted mentally and physically.  The Cathedral was surely built on such a massive scale to impress worshippers with the awesome power of God as represented by the government of England.  I was impressed by the immensity of the Cathedral, but I was not sure that constructing an immense building was the best way to bring people closer to God.  Perhaps if some of the money spent on building the Cathedral had been spent on improving the life conditions of the parishioners, they might have been more easily persuaded about the loving kindness and power of God.  I admit I might be completely wrong about that.

****

Once I had run out of energy, I had a light lunch and coffee in the Cathedral cafeteria.  Once I had finished lunch, I visited the Cathedral Gift Shop.  The Gift Shop had a large selection of items that I could buy if I had the money and the desire to do so.  The Gift Shop did actually sell Bibles, but they were placed so that I could have easily not seen they were there at all.

23 – Leaving Wales, Arriving in England: 21 September 2024

Just as Richard Reece Roberts had to leave the beauty of Wales and go to England, so too did I have to leave Wales and go to England.  I left yesterday, although right now, I could almost walk back across the border into Wales.  As U left, Wales continued to astonish me with its history and its beautiful scenery.  

In Corwen I found this statue of Owain Glyndwr, Prince of Wales.  Owain lived from 1349 to 1416 and nearly achieved the complete independence of Wales from rule by the Norman kings of England = monarchs who did not speak English, but spoke only French.

 

As if to give me one final reminder of what a beautiful country it is, Wales gave me this view of itself as I passed the Tollgate Café shortly after I had left Corwen.  The google map reference is https://maps.app.goo.gl/U1UUtHjdWvSvDpqu9

 

 

But like Richards Reece Roberts, I had to leave Wales.  To find any remaining traces of Richard, Newlands School, Eliza Hankin and Alfred Pearson, I must follow Richard, and leave Wales.  It is in Cheshire and Lancashire that I will find the surviving traces of Eliza Hankin’s ancestors.

****

Although Welsh influence is strong here in Cheshire, Cheshire definitely feels different. 

For a start, English is not a second language here and English is the mother tongue Cheshire just as Welsh is the mother tongue in Betwys y Coed.

Another big difference is that the traffic roundabouts are bigger, the volume of traffic is much greater and some of the roundabouts have multiple sets of traffic lights to help you go around in big, wide circles.

Although I and many of Eliza Hankin’s ancestors came from Lancashire, some of them came from Cheshire.  Most importantly, Alfred Pearson trained as a teacher at Chester College.  Chester College is now the Exton Park Campus of the University of Cheshire.

Today I gained entry to the Chapel at the Exton Park Campus of Cheshire University.  The Chapel is medium to small in size and when not in use, locked to prevent damage by the unthinking passersby. 

The Roll of Honour Memorial to the students of Chester College who died in World War 1 is on the left at the back of the Chapel - just as you are about to make your way down the aisle of the Chapel.  The words at the top of the Memorial Chapel say this.

1914 – 1919

“AS DYING, BEHOLD, WE LIVE”

The Memorial is divided into columns like this:

Graduation Year

Name of Student

Graduation Year

Name of Student

Graduation Year

Name of Student

Graduation Year

Name of Student

 

****

Twenty names are listed under each of the four columns showing the names of the students who died in World War 1.  In column 3 from the left, on the third line from the bottom the following information is set out in raised letters.

Graduation Year	Name of Student	Graduation Year	Name of Student	Graduation Year	Name of Student	Graduation Year	Name of Student
				1914	A PEARSON

 

Alfred Pearson was my Moon Man; the man who wrote the Postcard to my distant relative Eliza Hankin on that day on August 1914 when World War 1 was barely two weeks old.  More than three years after I first started trying to identify the Moon Man, here was a visible symbol that he had indeed once lived and breathed just like you and me.

The following is embossed in raised letters at the bottom of the list of the Chester College students who died in World War 1.

AT THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN AND IN THE MORNING, 

WE WILL REMEMBER THEM

This is a photo of the complete Memorial Board in the Chester College Chapel.  It is of course too dark to read, but I wanted to show you what it looks like.

This photo shows a close up of Alfred Pearson’s name on the Memorial Board in the Chapel at Chester College. 

God bless you Alfred Pearson.  Eliza Hankin certainly never forgot you.  The makers of the Chester College Memorial did their best to preserve your memory – and failed.

I have, for the moment, resurrected your memory and readers of the Postcard from the Moon will  also remember your name.

Ultimately though, pledges that we will “Never Forget” mean only that we will never forget until we do in fact forget.

Although the Memorial still exists at Chester College, it is, like most such memorials, unnoticed and forgotten during the rush of everyday life.  We want to remember but we are usually so very busy with our extremely busy lives, that despite our best intentions, we simply forget.

I cannot know how much time Eliza Hankin and her Moon Man had together before the need to survive forced Eliza to find someone else to spend her life with.

I do know I managed to spend 25 years, 1 calendar month, 1 week, 2 days, 3 hours and 16 minutes with Margaret.  I would have preferred a thousand times that amount of time with her, but just as Alfred was snatched away from Eliza, so too was Margaret snatched away from me. 

God bless you Eliza Hankin.

God bless you Alfred Pearson

God bless you Margaret Redden

Not all the time available in eternity can truly mend a broken heart.

 23 – The Very First Time I Married Margaret: 20 September 2024

Margaret and I actually married each other three times and not just twice; each of our marriages took place in County Kildare, Ireland.

Our very first marriage was dubbed a Bedding Ceremony.  It too was a joyous, fun filled occasion and it happened on Saturday 17 August 2002.

****

We had saved to visit Anne Ryan in County Kildare and we arrived in July 2002.  After a period of doing as little as possible, we hired a car to go touring.  Before we started our tour, Anne said she was holding a barbecue on Saturday 17 August and told us to be back by no later than 2.00 pm for the barbecue.  Because Adelaide is located in a desert State, barbecues are common; this meant we did not realise how uncommon barbecues are in Ireland.  It rains so much in Ireland, even in summer, that social events rarely take place outdoors.  This should have told us that Anne was planning something more than a mere “barbecue”.

Naturally, we had a very enjoyable trip journeying around the beautiful country called Ireland.  One of my highlights happened while we were driving from Cashel in County Tipperary to Killarney in County Killarney.  Cashel and Killarney are both in the southwest of Ireland where the countryside is heartachingly exquisite.  This photo shows the wild beauty of this part of Ireland.

 

Descending into a valley from high up, we found a small café right in the middle of this gorgeous, wild countryside.  Stopping for coffee, we saw a carved wooden statue on the road opposite the café.  It was a statue was of a pilgrim gazing downhill into the valley below.  The pilgrim had obviously travelled a long way and still faced a great distance before reaching journey’s end.  Here is my photo of the weary pilgrim.  Since Margaret's death I feel just like that weary pilgrim.

****

It rained a lot in the morning of the final Saturday of our trip, but the rain had vanished as we stopped in front of Anne’s house.  When we arrived, Anne was clearly relieved to see us, but maintained the pretence that she was simply holding a barbecue.

Margaret and I were sitting in the backyard when the guests started arriving, but even then Anne kept quiet about the events that were about to unfold.

As the guests arrived, Peter Hussey started bringing stage props out of Anne’s back yard garden shed.  Peter ran a youth theatre company and had access to a large selection of stage props.  First, he draped Margaret with a silly hat complete with a see through veil dropping over her face from the hat brim.  Next, Margaret received a pretend fur coat with a bunch of plastic flowers pinned to her shirt.  I received a bow tie and a coarse woollen jacket that was far too small for me.  Once we had been dressed, Michael Martin disguised as “Father Mick” beckoned us to join him next to a ludicrous oversized wooden armchair.  Until that moment, we had never met Father Mick before.  Matt, another complete stranger, had been given the role of father of the bride and immediately began “lecturing me” about the consequences of any failure to honour my wedding vows.

The barbecue was made of brick and it had lain unused in Anne's backyard for many years.  It fell to pieces when Maeve's husband tried to cook on it.  As is the custom in Ireland, the singing lasted well into the night.  Gosh it was fun and so filled with joy and love.

The totally joyous mock wedding ceremony which took place that day in Anne’s back yard was called The Bedding by our Irish friends.  It was a wonderful occasion for a party.  Margaret and I were stunned, surprised and delighted as The Bedding ceremony unfolded.  The most important element of The Bedding was that we were utterly in love and delighted to be able to announce our love so publicly.  Our happiness that day was immense and it was unmistakable. This photo was taken after the ceremony had ended and the party was in full enjoyment mode.

 

****

I wrote this poem to celebrate how Anne had pulled off our surprise Bedding Ceremony.

The Wedding Planner   She only became a Wedding Planner in 2002. We’d clawed through the time zones to holiday in the soft Irish rain. She’d shooed us off in the rental car with a warning to be back. Some friends were coming for a barbeque, so we mustn’t be late.   We followed instructions, Got back as ordered, Marvelled that the rain had stopped. Then it happened, The Bedding of the Decade.   She dressed us up as Bride and Groom, Stars at The Bedding. She beat the competition to be Chief Bridesmaid, Got “Father Mick” to administer The Bedding Vows, Then she strutted around, laughing at the fun, The only bridesmaid with a cigarette pack glued to her back shoulder, Kept in place by that ever so useful bra strap.   Oh Doctor Ryan, what fun we had! What was the meaning of that sash you wore? The one that said “Guess who’s getting married?” Were you giving us a hint?   23 September 2009

 

Anne might have dubbed the 2002 ceremony as a Bedding rather than a Wedding, but as far as we were concerned, this was a genuine marriage joining us in a union from which neither of us would ever seek a divorce.  Nothing could change the fundamental fact that we completely loved each other.  We knew this marriage was forever and there would never be another divorce for either of us.

 22 – Northern Wales near Betwys y Coed: 19 September 2024

Richard Reece Roberts was especially hard to trace.  When he was born, his name was Richard Reece and this is the name under which his earliest records were made.  Richard was the Christian name given to him by his parents, and Reece was the surname of his father.  When Richard became an adult, Welsh custom required that his surname be changed.  Welsh custom was that male children adopt as their surname, the Christian name of their father.  Because the Christian name of his father was Robert, once he became an adult, Richard’s name became Richard Reece Roberts.  After the change in his surname, all subsequent records showed Roberts as his surname.

Apart from the custom of a change in surname for male children, other factors made it even more difficult to trace Richard’s personal history.

For reasons rooted in history, the number of surnames in Wales is limited compared to the number of surnames in other countries.  Many unrelated families have the Jones surname, but even when sifting through the multiple families with the Jones surname is not a concern, the limited number of Welsh surnames can make it difficult to be certain that a record for someone with the names you are seeking is truly the person for whom you are looking.

Richard Reece Roberts came from a place in northern Wales called Cwm Penmachno.  In 2024, the nearest village to Cwm Penmachno is Penmachno and the nearest town is Betwys y Coed.  Betwys y Coed is located in an astonishingly beautiful part of a beautiful country called Wales.  Wales is one of the countries making up the United Kingdom.

Within 20 minutes’ drive of Betwys y Coed is Lake Llynogwen (GPS 42F2+7AR Bangor United Kingdom).  If you get lucky, you might be able to park in one of the limited car park spaces in the designated car parks alongside the lake.  I went early and still found the car parks nearly full.  If you cannot find a car park, you cannot stop because the lake is beside a very busy road where stopping is impossible.  The lake is ringed by mountains and looks crystal clear.  Today, the sun was shining and I got a car park and most of the photos came out exceptionally well.

In Betwys y Coed itself, Saint Mary’s Church was holding an antiques and collectibles fair.  The church building was as wonderful as the people exhibiting their wares at the fair.

I drove to Penmachno and turned into the narrow road with the sign pointing to Cwm Penmachno.  I think Penmachno means something like “head of the river Machno”.  The word “Cwm” means” valley.  If my translation from Welsh is correct, that gives the meaning “Valley of the head of the River Machno” to the name Cwm Penmachno.

The narrow road to Cwm Penmachno surely does take you down an astonishingly gorgeous valley ringed by mountains with deep green fields on either side.  If a car comes in the opposite direction, you must hope there is somewhere nearby where you can stop and let it get past you.  The hamlet of Cwm Penmachno is at the very end of the road and the road does not go beyond the hamlet.  At the very, very end of this narrow road, there are two rows of houses where Richard Reece Roberts lived when he was a child.  Before you get to the end of the road, you pass a chapel and a school.  Richrd went to school in this school and his parents married in the “licensed school room” in this school.  They probably worshipped in the chapel.

The entrance to the former slate quarry has some parking spaces where your car will not bock the road if you stop.

The quarry operated for many decades, being consigned to disuse only in the 1970s.  I wandered up the hill through the remains of the quarry.  The grass is now growing again and some of the ugliness of this industrial site has now been smoothed over, but multiple scars still remain.  Using an astonishing amount of misplaced ingenuity, the quarry owners turned a place of great beauty into a hub of intensive labour aimed at extracting slate from the mountain about Cwm Penmachno hamlet – and created an astonishing amount of ugliness where beauty once dominated everything.  The people who made money from the enterprise would undoubtedly say that their slate quarry created jobs that would otherwise have never existed.  I have no doubt that this claim would be true, but surely the blighting of the lives of those paid a pittance to exhaust their strength in the quarry should be counter balanced against the assertions of those whose main object was to make money.

Richard Reece Roberts might have had similar thoughts.  His father worked in the Cwm Penmachno quarry when it was a fully functional enterprise.  Richard’s ordained fate was surely to spend all of his strength like his father and so many others in Cwm Penmachno hamlet working in the slate quarry.  Somehow, Richard left the beauty of Cwm Penmachno and the blight inflicted on the countryside by the quarry and made a much better life in Liverpool and Hoylake.  Together with his wife Eleanor Edwards, Richard helped establish Newlands School in Hoylake.

Surely teaching children how to read and write enriches the world much more than ripping the guts out of the world by extracting slate?

As I walked deeper into the quarry, I passed the remains of the “cottages” built by the quarry owners to provide shelter for their workers.  These cottages must have had one massive advantage.  Their workers only had to walk put of the door and they were already at work!

 21 - Leaving Ireland, Meeting Snowdonia: 18 September 2024

I finally left Ireland on the 8.00 am ferry this morning and arrived in Wales just before 11.00.

I never thought I would be glad to say a final goodbye to such a beautiful country with some of the most decent and kind people anyone could ever want to meet – but I most certainly am glad to be gone from Ireland.

The Dublin taxi to the ferry terminal took me through miles of bleak industrial waste land.  Here the earth itself has apparently been blasted to the Moon so it could be replaced by the ugliness of industrial warehouses and the facilities that enable busy ports to function.  I was surprised that no one asked to see my passport or asked any questions either when I left Dublin or when I arrived in Holyhead.  Holyhead was a mirror image of the Dublin Port industrial wasteland, but on a much smaller scale.

Then, almost as if a magical switch had been clicked, I was surrounded by the overwhelming beauty of Wales.  I spend the next two nights in Snowdonia, surrounded by mountains, including the astonishing Mount Snowdon. 

In Wales, I am looking for traces of Richard Reece Roberts.  Richard was the husband of Eleanor Edwards and Eleanor was the founder and owner of Newlands School in Hoylake.  The Postcard signed by Alfred Pearson was mailed to Eliza Hankin at “Newlands” in Hoylake.  In August 1914, Eliza worked at Newlands as a domestic servant.

When I first started trying to unravel the histories of Richard Roberts and Eleanor Edwards, I wondered why I was bothering.  Surely there would be nothing of interest to unearth about the school – but of course, I was completely wrong.  I soon discovered that the stories of Richard Roberts and his wife Eleanor Edwards were more than worth the effort to uncover.

Richard Reece Roberts was the son of a labourer in a slate quarry at a place called Cwm Penmachno.  Cwm Penamchno is about 10 minutes’ drive away from a tiny Welsh village called Penmachno.  The hamlet of Cwm Penmachno was created to provide a home for workers in a slate quarry located further up the mountain from Cwm Penmachno.  The quarry continued to operate until the 1970s.  Penmachno and Cwm Penmachno are surrounded by the mountains of north Wales.

As the son of a labourer in a slate quarry, the future prospects for Richard Reece Roberts were probably bleak.  How could the son of a quarry labourer ever become anything more than just another quarry labourer?

As I had been so often when I was researching and writing the Postcard Book, I was stunned by what I discovered.

Somehow, Richard Roberts acquired an education and moved to Liverpool.  In Liverpool, he became an accountant, a lay preacher and a real estate agent.  In Liverpool, Richard met and married Eleanor Edwards and his prosperity improved with every year he knew her.  Richard and Eleanor then moved to the southern side of the River Mersey and lived in Birkenhead.  As their material wealth increased, they moved to Hoylake and established Newlands School.

When I dug into Eleanor’s story, yet more astonishing facts emerged.

Eleanor’s father was a labourer on the railways in Liverpool.  He had nothing to offer his family except love and a determination to ensure they always had the necessities of life.  Like Richard Roberts, Eleanor had an intelligent mind and used it to get a scholarship to train as a teacher.  After she married Richard, she used her training to establish her own school.  Eleanor was also a suffragette and she was enrolled to vote many years before women were legally allowed to vote in national elections in the United Kingdom.  She achieved this because women with the necessary level of prosperity were permitted to vote in local elections even though they were banned from voting in national elections. I found many records of Eleanor being listed on the electoral roll for the Hoylake local elections – and I found these records long before women were allowed to vote nationally.

So I am in Wales looking for traces of Richrd Reece Roberts, son of a labourer in a now disused slate quarry located amid the beauty of Snowdonia.  And I wonder at the magnificence of the human spirit and how a man who was seemingly doomed to a life of poverty and unrelenting hard, physical labour, was able to use his talent and intelligence to do the impossible – and in his spare time, preach the values of love and compassion that imbue the New Testament.

As I look for traces of Richrd, I am surrounded by the grandeur of Snowdonia and the singing of the waters in its many streams.  If I am patient and if I have eyes to see and ears to hear, perhaps the beauty surrounding me will even help me to heal.  I have every reason to believe it will help me, because the very same beauty helped Richard Reece Roberts, son of a humble, hard working quarry labourer, achieve material success that no one would have ever seen s possible hen he was young.

 20 - The Colours of Love and Marrying Margaret: 17 September 2024

In case you skimmed over my wedding poem because it was included as part of our Handfasting Ceremony pamphlet, here is a stand alone copy of my poem called The Colours of Love.  Here also is a copy of my poem Marrying Margaret.

 

The Colours of Love: John Hankin

Margie's dominant colour isn't red,

Although her name says she is The Red One.

 

Muted red hues do surround her.

The deep ruby in her nails is always there.

So too is the glow of her hair,

Even if it does need assistance now and then.

 

The slow red burn of her heart can't be denied either.

Its gentle shine brings the warmth of a woman incapable of anything but love.

Her red colours reflect the reality of who she is.

But despite the touches of red

Margie's dominant colour isn't red at all.

 

Have you ever noticed the soft hum of the blue that surrounds her?

Have you ever noticed the golden yellow envelope she walks

Have you ever noticed the gentle green of the Irish in her walk?

Well I have.

 

The blue of the sky came first from Margie.

The sun's golden aura was born in the arms of her Love. The grassy, green carpet wasn't there until it spilled out from her heart.

My wife is a swirl of colour,

She is always gentle, always warm.

The colours of Love surround her,

Moving with the rhythm of her life,

Moving with the rhythm of our love.

 

How does she do this?

She says she does nothing,

But the colours of her love cannot be denied.

 

I don't care how she does it.

Why would l?

For I am blessed by the colours of her love.

 

******

Two months after our wedding, I wrote this poem in honour of my vows.  It is not as good as The Colours of Love, but I meant every word in it.

 Marrying Margaret

Did she really say I do?

She did.

Did I really say I do?

I did.

We’ve both been down this road before you know,

So why was it so different this time?

 

We’ve both had friends and family applauding the happy event before.

Not like this though.

 

This time they meant it.

 

We’ve both had the drunken celebrations before,

And the silly grins and the not really sincere congratulations.

 

But this time they meant it.

 

We’ve both had the presents

The ever so genuine best wishes

And the knowing looks.

We’ve had all of this before.

 

Although this time they meant it.

 

But none of this made Marrying Margaret so special.

No.

It wasn’t the laughter.

It wasn’t the singing

It wasn’t the genuine joy of family and friends.

 

One thing and one thing only made Marrying Margaret so special.

 

I saw her eyes speaking the only words that mattered.

Margaret’s eyes sparkled as she said she loved me.

Nothing else mattered.

Her eyes told me what I needed to hear.

 

That made it the best wedding ever.

 

20 September 2009

It was devastating for both of us when the friends who attended and applauded our wedding cancelled both of us.  Why did the cancellation happen?  I believe they were terrified of being anywhere near Margaret because she had been given a death sentence.

 

19 - Our Magical Marriage in 2009: 17 September 2024

This is an exact copy of the booklet Maeve prepared for our magical handfasting marriage ceremony that took place immediately after our official legal marriage in Ireland on that wonderful day in July 2009.   Apart from my brother Bill, every other person named in the pamphlet cancelled me and Margaret long before Margaret died.

Although Maeve created most of what was incorporated into our Handfasting Ceremony, I inserted some words of my own that I wrote just for that day – these were words I everyone to hear me saying out loud.  My poem The Colours of Love was both an affirmation of love and a surprise for Margaret.  I wrote The Colours of Love in Adelaide specifically for our Handfasting Ceremony and I emailed it to Ireland so it could be incorporated into our ceremony. In the morning before the wedding, I worried that Margaret might look more closely at the Handfasting Ceremony pamphlet prepared by Maeve and see my unannounced inclusion.  Luckily, she was distracted and did not notice it.  This meant my “surprise ambush” of Margaret was completely successful.  I read my poem aloud as we made our Handfasting Ceremony vow in public at Kilashee House.

The Handfasting Ceremony took place inside Kilashee House in the same room where our Civil Marriage took place and it immediately followed our first marriage.

The Handfasting Ceremony took place just like this.

 

Margie and John Thursday 30th July 2009 Handfasting Ceremony   Ceremony Participants Bride:                                    Margie Redden Groom:                                  John Hankin Blessing Ceremony:              Conducted by Maeve O'Byrne Readings: Sue Kinnear (Chapman) Mick Martin Peter Hussey Remembrances                         Margaret Hankin Handfasting Anne Ryan Bill Hankin Singers Caitriona Ni Fhlaithearta Tommy McCormack Flower Girl Saidhbh Dalton   **** Introduction: Maeve O'Byrne We welcome Margie and John's family and friends to this Handfasting Ceremony today. In this short Ceremony we will hear some readings, poetry, songs and words of wisdom on love and the state of matrimony. We will also recite some blessings from a number of ancient spiritual traditions for the couple and for all of us gathered here on this joyful occasion. The Lighting of the Candles: Margie and John and Gathering Maeve: Before we start, we invite Margie and John to light their candles symbolising their individuality and the light they bring to each other. We also invite each one of you to Light a candle for Margie and John to bless them on this day.   Opening Sacred Space Now we ask all of you to join with us to open a sacred space in which to surround and enfold Margie and John as they pledge their vows to each other. To do this I ask you to stand and face each of the four cardinal directions and stretch out your right hand as I call in the light and gifts of each. After we have called in each direction you may respond with the word 'Ho' which comes from the Native American Tradition and Like 'Amen' simply means 'Let it be so'. South Maeve: Guardian Spirits, Angels and Winds of South, Great Serpent. Wrap your coils of light around us. Teach us to shed our past as you shed your skin. Teach us to walk gently upon the earth. We invite you to our circle to bless Margie and John and all of us gathered here today. Response: Ho West Maeve: Guardian Spirits. Angels and Winds of West/ Mother Jaguar. Teach us to walk in peace to live impeccably. We invite you to protect our circle today and ask you to protect Margie and John as they join their lives together Response: Ho North Maeve: Guardian Spirits, Angels and Winds of North/ Council of the Mountains, Hummingbird/ Grandmother and Grandfathers, Ancient Ones who have gone before. We invite you to warm your hands and our circle to witness the love of Margie and John. Response: Ho East Maeve: Guardian Spirits, Angels and Winds of East, Great Eagle, come to us from over the mountains. Teach us to fly with the Great Spirit. We invite you to our circle to grant us Maeve: I ask a blessing on Margie and John, may strength and constancy be theirs for as long as they desire to be together. (Maeve anoints their hands with olive oil) May they be granted the deepest of love, health of body and richness of soul and spirit. May the bonds that join them, tie them together strongly yet let them be borne lightly. (Maeve walks around couple three times sprinkling blessed water)   The Colours of Love: John Hankin Margie's dominant colour isn't red, Although her name says she is The Red One.   Muted red hues do surround her. The deep ruby in her nails is always there. So too is the glow of her hair, Even if it does need assistance now and then.   The slow red burn of her heart can't be denied either. Its gentle shine brings the warmth of a woman incapable of anything but love. Her red colours reflect the reality of who she is. But despite the touches of red Margie's dominant colour isn't red at all.   Have you ever noticed the soft hum of the blue that surrounds her? Have you ever noticed the golden yellow envelope she walks Have you ever noticed the gentle green of the Irish in her walk? Well I have.   The blue of the sky came first from Margie. The sun's golden aura was born in the arms of her Love. The grassy, green carpet wasn't there until it spilled out from her heart. My wife is a swirl of colour, She is always gentle, always warm. The colours of Love surround her, Moving with the rhythm of her life, Moving with the rhythm of our love.   How does she do this? She says she does nothing, But the colours of her love cannot be denied.   I don't care how she does it. Why would l? For I am blessed by the colours of her love.             Mick Martin Old hopes, new laughter, shared fears. The adventure has just begun And may your days be good and Long upon the earth.             A Blessing: John O'Donohue May you Listen to your Longing to be free. May the frames of your belonging be Large enough for the dreams of your soul. May you arise each day with a voice of blessing whispering in your heart That something good is going to happen to you. May you find a harmony between your soul and your life. May the mansion of your soul never become a haunted place. May you know the eternal Longing that is at the heart of time. May there be kindness in your gaze when you Look within. May you never place walls between the light and yourself. May your angel free you from the prisons of guilt/ fear, disappointment and despair. May you allow the wild beauty of the invisible world to gather you, mind you and embrace you in belonging.   Wild Geese: Peter Hussey Mary Oliver You do not have to be good. you do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to Let the soft animal of your body love what it Loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you Like the wild geese, harsh and exciting- over and over announcing your place in the family of things.   Song in Irish: Caitriona Ni Fhlaithearta Translated by John McKenna Se Fäth Mo Bhuartha A Song of Longing for my Lover. It saddens me greatly that I cannot see my love, in the glen where she lives, at all. There is honey aplenty, fresh butter and cream there and the trees are in flower 'till the leaves start to fall.   There is no harsh wind there, no hard winter snow, it lies in a bay with a harbour so deep, a valley of plenty with roads that wind gently. I wish I were there to watch my lover sleep.   My love and my sweetheart/ your mouth smiling softly, all I ever want is to have you beside me. There's never an evening or a day the sun rises. that you're not the bright shining star in my eyes.   Walking the plains and deep woods full of fruit, I'm closer to you than I am to the rest. All I want is to wed you, my sweet, darling lover, to Lay my hand on your smooth/ gentle breast.   Sé Fäth MO Bhuartha   Sé fåth mo bhuardhartba nach bhfaghaim faill uaire ort San geanntån uaigneach ag a mbfonn mo ghrådh; Mar bhfuighinn mil ar luachair ann, im agus uachtar Teacht don fhuacht bfonn na crainn faoi bhLåth. Ni bhfon gaoth adtuaidh ann nå sneachta buan ann, Tå caladh is cuan ann ag Iuing is ag båd/ Tå tuilleadh buaidh ann, nil turas cruaiche ann, Då dtéigtheå sfos le do chai[fn mnå.   Ni ar shLiabb n6 ar chibleach atå mo mhian-ra, Acht ar tha[taibh mine, mar a mbionn meas is blåth; Bionn an chuach ag glaodhach ann ar bharra craobh ann, Tå cruithneach mhaol ann, agus coirce bån; Bionn an t-uan 's an Iaogh ann, 'is na bric in-a scaoith ann, Tå an eala is aoibhne ar an Loch ag snåmh;   Tå an bheach ch6mh crfonna 's go bhfuil a hårus lionta, Agus mil då taomadh ag mo mhuirnfn bån.   Is aoibhinn Corr Shliabh I dtås an gbeimhridh,Ni bhionn leac oidhre air, nå sneachta a dtuaidh; Is ceolmhar traon ann, an chuach, 's a' Iondubh, Mbarraidh coillte ins an dui[leabhar ruadh. Is binn guth gadhar ann ag t6rnuidheacht eilite, Is an fiadh 'san am sin ag ar siubhaL 'S gur Leat a chintear in sach sruth g[an aibhne Go mbfonn an bradån finn-gheal 's an breac ar 16th.   Déanfainn mtéagnach [eat-sap a chéad ghrådh/ Då mearfainn féin go mbéadh maith dhamh ann, Mar is tå do réab mo chroidhe 6 chéile, Agus d'fhåg na néalta-sa thrfd mo cheann. A mhaighdean bhéasach na ma[af chaoLa, 'S na gcurcån gh[égeal atå fåinneach fionnm TrialL domi fhéachaint agus mé I n-éagcruasv 'S beidh beannacht Dé dhuit go bråth då chionn. Remembrances: Margaret Hankin We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to Love. . . and then we return home.' Australian Aboriginal Proverb   We remember the ancestors of Margie and John who Left these shores many years ago. We remember all those who were much beloved by Margie and John, who have gone before them from this realm. We invoke the memory of that love and the joy of memories and laughter shared to bless them on their special day.   (Arone Meeks: Spirit Ark) Handfasting Ceremony Maeve:          Now I would like to invite Anne and Bill to step forward to bind the cords for the Handfasting and I invite Margie and John to Look into each other’s eyes. Maeve:          Margie and John; know now before you go further, that since your lives have crossed in this life, you have formed eternal and sacred bonds. As you seek to enter this state of matrimony you should strive to make real the ideals that to you, give meaning to this ceremony and to the institution of marriage. With full awareness, know that within this circle you are not only declaring your intent to be handfasted before your friends and family but you speak that intent also to your higher powers. The promises made today and the ties that are bound here greatly strengthen your union and will cross the years and lives of each soul's growth.   Maeve:                      Do you still seek to enter this ceremony? Margie and John:      yes, Maeve:                      Margie and John, will you honour and respect one another, and never seek to break that honour? Margie and John:      We will.   [The first cord is draped over the couples' hand]   Maeve:          And so the first binding is made. Will you share each otherts pain and seek to ease it? Margie and John:      We will.   [Second cord is draped over the couples’ hands.]   Maeve: And so the second binding is made Will you face your challenges equally so that your spirits may grow in this union?   Margie and John: We will.   [Third cord is draped over the couples' hands]   Maeve:          And so the third binding is made. Will you share each other's laughter, and[ look for the brightness in life and the positive in each other? Margie and John:      We will   [Fourth cord is draped over the couples' hands]   Maeve: And so the binding is made. I now invite you to make your wedding vows to each other.   [Tie cords together]   Exchange of Vows Margie and John: You cannot possess me for I belong to myself. But while we both wish it/ Igive you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me for l am a free person. But I shall serve you in those ways you require and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand. I pledge to you that yours will be the eyes into which I smile in the morning. I pledge to you the first bite from my meat and the first drink from my cup. I pledge to you my living and my dying each equally in your care. I shall be a shield for your back. I shall not slander you. I shall honour you above all others, and when we quarrel/ we shall do so in private and tell no strangers our grievances. This is my wedding vow to you. This is the marriage of equals. Maeve:          Margie and John, as your hands are bound together now, so your lives and spirits are joined in a union of love and trust. Above you are the stars and below you is the earth. Like the stars your love should be a constant source of light/ and like the earth, a firm foundation from which to grow. I will now untie your hands, symbolising your willingness to stay together of your own free will.   (Maeve unties cord)   your wisdom, your vision and your inspiration. We ask you to keep Margie and John under your great wing.   Response: Ho   Mother Earth Maeve:          Mother Earth we are your children and we walk on your belly, We ask for blessings for all your creatures: for the stone people; the plant people; the two Legged and the four legged; the furred/ the finned and the feathered - all our relations. We ask you to bless Margie and John and all here with your healing and your bounty. Response: Ho   Father Sky/Great Spirit Maeve:          Grandfather Sun, Grandmother moon, Star Brothers and Sisters, Great Spirit you who have a thousand names and you who are unnameable. Jesus Christ the first Shaman. We thank you for allowing us to sing the song of Life another day. We thank you for Margie and John and for their life and love and for the life and love of all of us in this circle.   Response: Ho Maeve:          Margie and John have already pledged their vows before the civil and legal powers and they are now ready to do the same in the sight of the higher spiritual powers surrounded by the love of this gathering. They have chosen the ancient Celtic ritual of Handfasting. In this ceremony a cord representing their union will bind their hands together symbolising their love and their future life together. Taking part in the ceremony to tie the cords will be John's brother Bill and Anne, Margie's friend and medicine sister. A handfasting is a declaration of intent/ where the bride and groom clearly state that they are marrying of their own free will. In some traditions the vows could be reviewed and renewed (or not) after a year. Poems and Blessings   Wedding Braids: Sue Kinnear From the Apache Wedding Ceremony May the sun bring you new strength by day May the moon softly restore you by night. May the rain wash away your fears And the breeze blow new strength into your being. May you, all the days of your life, Walk gently through the world And know its beauty. May you feel no rain, for each of you will shelter the other, May you feel no cold for each of you will be the warmth to the other, May there be no Loneliness for you, for each will be a a companion to the other, Now you are two bodies, but there is a joint life before you. Go now to your dwelling place, to enter into the days of your togetherness. Your life stretches behind you, even as the future lies ahead. A long and winding road/ whose every turning means discovery.   Gift for the Bride and Groom: Saidhbh Dalton Maeve:          I now invite our youngest participant, Saidhbh, Margie and John's Flower Girl - previously known as bump to bring some gifts to the bride and groom. Saidhbh is bringing a wreath of rosemary and lavender, associated with weddings since ancient times and a horseshoe for good luck.   Maeve:          I now invite you all to join with me in closing our sacred space with a blessing from each direction for Margie and John.   Closing Sacred Space: All South Blessed be this union with the gifts of the South and the element of fire, for energy, passion, creativity and the warmth of a Loving home. From the fire within you may you generate light, which you will share with one another in even the darkest of times. West Blessed be this union with the gifts of the West, the element of water, for your capacity to feel emotion. In marriage you offer absolute trust to one another, and vow to keep your hearts open in sorrow as well as joy. North Blessed be this union with the gifts of the North, the element of earth/ which provides sustenance, fertility and security. The earth will feed and enrich you, and help you to build a stable home to which you may always return. East Blessed be this union with the gifts of the East and the element of Air, for openness and breath/ communication of the heart, and purity of the mind and body. From the east you receive the gift of a new beginning with the rising of each Sun, and the understanding that each day is a new opportunity for growth. Mother Earth Blessed be this union with the gifts of Mother Earth. May she bless you with her bounty and with feasts for the soul and for the table from her stores of plenty, and may she always restore and heal you and ground you with her love. Father Sky/Great Spirit Blessed be this union with the gifts of Father Sky and Great Spirit. May you always be inspired with wonder as you gaze at the heavens. May your prayers and blessings be born to the Great Spirit on swift wings. Maeve: Our Circle is closed we give thanks for the Guardians, Angles and Winds who have blessed us with their presence. Song: Tommy McCormack "Those who Lose dreaming are Lost/ (Aboriginal Proverb) May John and Margie share a dreaming that is everlasting and sweet