Man's inhumanity to man. (Part 2)

I watched and closely followed my Mum's way of interacting with others. Her way seemed the right way to me and may I even say her way seemed very similar to the way Jesus would have been with people. My childhood was full of the Christian religion and traditions. Bible stories were part of my daily existence. I had wondered why my dad who spouted these stories to all and sundry, did not behave the way Jesus would have behaved. I never heard about Jesus hitting children until they bled. The only time I heard about him getting angry was when people set up shop in a house of God. That made him very angry. But when children were involved in his stories, he always seemed so gentle and kind. Anyway, I thought that my Mum really knew and understood this concept and tried to live her life as a good Christian should. My dad's actions on the other hand were just too confusing for me to even begin to understand.

Friday nights were interesting for our family. It was football night. And we would often go and watch our favourite local football team. On nights we did not go to football, dad would be being interviewed in the huge police station in the city centre as I have previously mentioned. Aside from the enjoyable football nights that were quite fun, going home would be a bit scary for me. We had two cars at the time. One was an Austin Morris, the church's car and the other was a Daihatsu bakkie (pickup truck). We used the bakkie for football so the other car would be locked in our locked up garage. Every time we got home from football and dad opened the garage door, so the bakkie lights shone into the garage, my Mum would get out of the passenger side and walk into the garage, open the back door of the car and shout very loudly 'Get out now please!'

Now, my Mum was just over five foot but she always had a big voice. I would be ducked down in the bakkie cab but still peeking every now and again to see what was happening. Without fail, a man would bumble his way out of the back seat of the car and drunkenly stumble down the driveway to the road. He would have my Mum shooing him from a safe distance. If he dared to stop anywhere near the bakkie, she would roar at him again. There were a number of homeless men who found refuge lying down to sleep on the back seat of our little car when we were out. I still have no idea how they got in.

My Mum was always loud with them but she was never rude. She was just protecting her home and her child. We often talked about those times when I was older. And I always told her she was fortunate that the men never turned nasty. At times she was very close to them. She always said there is a means and a way of treating others. Obviously she was not going to go and shake them awake gently, so her loud shout at the start was to wake them up. But after that she was the epitome of decorum and I think they responded positively to that.

In fact, my Mum always treated everyone with courtesy. When my dad became the minister at the big church in the centre of a coastal city, there was a mission working with homeless people. There may be up to forty at a service. They got to know us as a family and we got to know them too. One day I was on the bus back from town with my Mum and one of them got on the bus. At that time, it was 'whites'* only downstairs on the buses with 'non-whites'* upstairs. Leonard saw my Mum and shouted a greeting to her as she smiled broadly at him. The driver shouted an obscenity at Leonard and told him to get upstairs and leave the woman alone. He apologised and shot upstairs. My Mum got up and went to speak to the driver. She explained she knew Leonard and he was just being courteous so the driver had no need to be rude to him. She made sure the whole bus heard her. The bus driver apologised and continued on his route.

I was so proud of my Mum for doing that. There had been no need for the bus driver to belittle Leonard. That was not right.

I think I have previously written about Sunday mornings before Church. My Mum and I would stand in the kitchen for an hour making a hundred sandwiches with jam or peanut butter or cold meats if we had any. We would then go to church, come back, have lunch and wait. The doorbell would soon start ringing with a stream of homeless people asking for food. [They knew which house was ours as someone would tie a brightly coloured rag to a bush in our front garden.] They would each leave with sandwiches and fruit.

It does not take a lot to be kind and courteous to others. Even when you are under duress yourself. In fact I think the giving unto others in kindness and courtesy really helped my Mum and me. We felt we were doing something positive in a difficult and unjust society.

*Official government terms during the apartheid era.