

Diamond Moments

Moments of Natural Beauty and Divine Inspiration

by

Leone Harris

"In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight."

\- Proverbs 3:3-4 NIV

Text and Illustrations by Leone Harris Copyright © Leone Harris May 2008

All scripture quotations are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION, Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved

Published by Eutopia Press

Smashwords edition 2012 based on the original print edition 2008

Go to the website http://www.diamondmoments.org for free full-colour bookmarks by Leone to download, and meet other readers and contribute your own Diamond Moments!

Otherwise write to or email Eutopia Press.

Eutopia Press

P.O. Box 37, Kaiwaka, Northland, New Zealand

email peter@eutopia.co.nz

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Polished Shoes and White Pebbles

The Gypsies Will Get You

Mud Pies to Eat

Safe in a Cyclone

A Visit to New Zealand

A Storm at Sea

A Scary Night

New Zealand is Sinking!

Flour on her Hands

A Special Dream

Squeaky Clean

College Train Girl

Lady in Red

Better Never Late

A Second Florence Nightingale

A Letter From Dad

If

Friendly Plane Above

I'm Never Out Of Your Sight

The Salesman

Stranger In The Tram

Coconuts And Shells

The Bishop's Coffee

Frangipani Flowers

A Flying Fox, So Close

Daisy

A Divine Appointment

A Gift Of Daffodils

A Rose For Mother

Amaryllis Lilies

Wildflowers For Peggy

Cake Crumbs For Sparrows

Destined To Fly

Empty Sparrows' Nests

A Tall Australian

Gifts Of Joy

God Rules Supreme

God's Loving Care

Orange Flowers

Scent And Sight

So Still On A Petal

While Olympic Games Were On

Steve Comes To Stay

Gerald's Visit

A Precious Dream

Running From God

Patrick's Encounter With Christians

Jayanti's Visit

Steve, A Backseat Driver

All Bad!

666 On His Forehead

The Bookmark Idea

The Tall Lady

The Miracle

Better Than Ice Cream

A Chain Around His Neck

The Pregnant Nurse

Towed Home To Clarke Road

I Needed One Bee

The New Neighbour

A Treasured Posy

The Dove

A Macrame Hanger

Appointment With Frankie

The Widow's Birthday

The Tangled Skein

Plastic Bags On Her Feet

The Tulip Tree

His Eye Is On The Sparrow

The Tiny Shell

TheSeaweed

Dale's Birthday

Life After Death

On Board A Keeler

Tomatoes On Toast

The Enhanced Feathers

The Magpie

Hebrew Song

This Land Is Mine

Holding My Hand

Answered Prayer

The Song

Soli Deo Gloria

Bumblebee's Refuge

The Fantail

A Mynah In The Persimmon Tree

A Thrush In The Bird Bath

Arum Lillies

Wet Autumn Leaves

Beautiful Seagulls

Diligent Bumble Bees

Elusive Fragrance

One Grain Of Sand

Mock Cherry Tree

A White Iris Lily

Tui In The Kowhai Tree

Wood Pigeon

The Oak Tree

Photos

More

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A big thank you to:

Evan, for preparing so many meals so I could keep writing these anecdotes. I love you!

John, our precious first born son; many are the notes you have sent me over the years, encouraging me to write a book

Rosie, you generously shared your writing expertise with me. I have so valued your help.

Penny, you always took time from your busy schedule to encourage me to keep writing.

Peter, for your beautiful cover design and for publishing the book. Diamond Moments would never have seen the light of day without all your help.

Daniel and Raewyn, for all your wonderful help with editing and formatting.

All my friends, who over the years have told me how the stories I've shared with them have helped them. Your encouragement inspired me to write this book.

Leone Harris

Introduction

We all have diamond moments, short-lived

Like raindrops showered on us from a tree

But they last like precious jewels

In our memory...

Colin Cole, a good friend of ours and a well-known dress designer, used to say to his beautiful wife Maire, "Darling, I love you so much I would like to shower you with diamonds!"

Some years ago when Colin was at home recuperating from heart surgery and resting in an arm-chair, Maire heard a thud. She hurried into the lounge and saw Colin collapsed on the floor.

Months later she shared with Evan and me that at that moment of realising her husband was no longer breathing, she became aware of a beautiful shower of diamonds all around her.

Some of my diamond moments have also come at unexpected and painful times.

My childhood was not always a happy one. My mother, brother and I were often packing up and following my father around Australia. But we were never united as a family. I always longed for a home, and that Dad would decide to stay with us.

One of the most wonderful moments of my life was when I realised I had a heavenly father who loved me. One who would never leave me.

I hope you will be blessed as you read about some of the diamond moments in my life.

Polished Shoes and White Pebbles

When I was five, I started school in Cairns. My eight-year-old brother Jackie looked after me well, going with me in the morning and escorting me home in the afternoon.

An Aboriginal girl sat across the aisle from me. She was always neatly dressed. One day she arrived wearing brand new black patent leather shoes with a strap across the instep and buttoned at the side, the same as mine. I wondered if her mother used a special hook to button up the shoes the way my mother did for me.

This girl took off her shoes every morning after she was seated at her desk. She'd spit on her spotless white handkerchief and use it to clean the soles of her shoes! This was my headline news for Jackie when we met at the school gate, then I shared it with Mum when we arrived home.

Sometimes on our way home we'd stop to watch men cutting sugar cane, and usually they'd cut a piece for each of us to chew while we walked home.

Jackie was my very best friend. At home he often read stories to me, because I was only just learning to read. He collected some white pebbles and taught me how to rub them together until a spark came. If we put our heads under a rug the sparks looked brighter.

One Friday afternoon as we walked home, the grocer, who had a shop nearby, invited us to his daughter's birthday party the following afternoon. We were so excited when Mum said we could go.

However in the morning her face looked serious as she spoke to me. "Leone, you'll have to go to the party on your own. Jackie has a bad headache. Be nice and quiet, dear. Play with your dolls, or look at some picture books until it's time to put on your party dress."

The grocer's home was at the back of the store, so it wasn't far to walk. I didn't stay long though, because I couldn't stop crying. When the grocer saw how upset I was at being there without Jackie, he took me home.

When she saw me, Mum said, "Be very quiet dear, so you don't wake Jackie. He's having a sleep now but his head has been very sore."

The rest of that day I probably looked at picture storybooks, but all I remember was the loneliness I felt. When I woke in the morning, Mum was sitting on my bed. "Last night Jackie had to go to the hospital to be looked after. But he died dear, and has gone to heaven."

I don't remember crying or being comforted. I realise now that Mum must have been grieving too much to think I needed to be held in her arms. After I dressed, I waited for Mum to come to me. I sat on a wooden bay window seat in the front hall feeling numb and lonely, while I heard a pastor reading to Mum a psalm about sheep, which I know now would have been Psalm 23.

I longed to be near my mother so I tiptoed along the passage to her room. The door was almost shut. The pastor must have been on a chair to the right of the door but when I pushed the door gently I could see Mum seated on the edge of her bed looking at a photo of Jackie, rocking and crying. They didn't see me so I tiptoed back to the window seat feeling cold and lonely.

The Gypsies Will Get You

It was scary going back to school on my own after Jackie died. The first day back, when I heard the school bell ring after lunch, I ran home. A man on the street called out to me, "What are you doing out of school, little girl?"

I ran faster, remembering how someone had once told me to be very good or the gypsies would get me. I knew I shouldn't have left school early. Fear clutched at my heart. What a relief when I saw our house. I ran up the path and tried to open the door. It was locked!

Where could I hide? The only place was under the house. It was dark and not high enough for grown-up gypsies to grab me, so I squeezed under and lay flat on my back in the dirt. I waited for what seemed like forever before I heard the gate open. Someone was coming along the path. Was it a gypsy?

My mother! I could see her shoes and ankles as she walked to the back door. Relief flooded through me. I wriggled out onto the path and ran to the back door before Mum had unlocked it. How warm and safe I felt as we hugged each other.

Mud Pies to Eat

Soon after Jackie died, Mum and I stayed with friends who owned a private hotel in Cairns. They had an only child, who was five, the same age as I was. His name was Freddie. We became good friends. After rain had kept us indoors for days, we were happy when the sun shone and we played in the back yard. Freddie noticed a muddy patch, and suggested, "Let's make a pie like our mothers do, only ours will be of mud."

We both had fun making a mud pie, but I shuddered when Freddie said, "Why don't we eat our pies same as our mothers do?" He took a bite and pretended to enjoy it. "Come on," he said, "this is fun. Don't be a sissy!" I felt terrible to disappoint Freddie, but no way could I put that mud into my mouth.

A few days later Freddie had a very sore throat and died of diphtheria. I felt so scared and knew I should tell Mum about the mud pies. She looked so worried when I told her. She took hold of my hand and hurried off to the chemist shop nearby, asking me as we went along, "Are you sure you didn't eat any mud, Leone?" The chemist sat me on a chair and painted my throat with something that tasted dreadful so I wouldn't get diphtheria. I didn't.

Safe in a Cyclone

While we were still at our friend's place in Cairns, a cyclone hit the town. The building we were in was made of bricks, so a lot of people came there to be safe. They had to walk down a lane beside the dining room window, where men helped each person through the open window.

A bed was made for me under a dining room table. From there I watched while some ladies screamed, and one fainted. There were kind people who made tea and took a cup to those who wanted one.

Apart from the cyclone, this was a very special time for me. My father arrived too late for Jackie's funeral, but he was with us this scary night and I felt safe and warm.

A Visit to New Zealand

Mum and I went by ship to visit my grandparents in Nelson. They had been missionaries for six years in Bulawayo, Rhodesia. It was exciting staying with them in their home in Nelson. They had brought back so many African curios - jars of insects, snake skins, carved deer ornaments and strongly woven grass table mats and baskets which we still use today.

Many a story they told us, though some I later wished I had not heard when I was in lying in bed in the dark! One recurring nightmare I had was of an angry tribe who set my hut alight.

What a relief it was to wake up, and realise it was only a dream.

A Storm at Sea

On our way back to Australia, our ship was tossed about in a storm, but we braved it onto the deck to watch Kingsford Smith flying his plane to New Zealand.

Not long after, when we were in our cabin, there was a knock on our door. A stewardess entered. She was trying not to cry as she told us the ship was going to sink so we had better say our prayers.

What a relief when we landed safely! The feel of my shoes on a solid footpath, as I walked beside Mum, was like 'living happily ever after.'

A Scary Night

Mum, Dad and I stayed in an apartment in a huge building in Melbourne. A friend of theirs lived in the room upstairs from us. She offered to look after me one night while Dad and Mum went out. She was nice and friendly and I went to sleep in her bed.

Sometime during the night, a creepy sound woke me, and I thought I saw a tall man dressed like the Ku Klux Klan. There was nobody in the bed beside me. At first I couldn't make a sound, but soon I screamed very loudly. Someone came running up the stairs, and switched on a light. My dad had come home and heard me scream. He lifted me up and carried me down to our place. Dad had saved me!

New Zealand is Sinking!

I ran as fast as I could when school was over to my grandparents' home where I was living. As I ran, I thought of the day in Australia when my teacher had told my class I was going to the 'Rickety Isles" called New Zealand to live. She told them there were cracks in the roads there from all the earthquakes. I had wondered why Mum would take me to such an unsafe place, and now I was wondering all over again.

My grandmother was kneeling by the garden, weeding around the Michaelmas daisies in full bloom.

"Grandma! We have to hurry and pack our bags and go to Australia because New Zealand is going under the sea."

Grandma straightened up from her kneeling position and calmly looked at me. "Now, speak slowly my girl, and tell me what this is all about."

She was in no way alarmed when I told her that the standard six girls had told me New Zealand was going to sink into the sea. She quietly went on weeding, and I went inside to wait for my mother to come home from apple picking at an orchard. She was younger and would know what to do in a hurry.

But my mother wasn't concerned either, and after she kissed me goodnight and put out the light, I lay there terrified in the dark. What a relief it was to wake up in the morning, with birds singing, and the sun shining.

Ever since then the sight of Michaelmas daisies reminds me of the day I was gullible enough to believe the standard six girls' gossip.

Flour on her Hands

Two months before I turned ten, I was in the kitchen when the door opened from the hall. I saw the nurse look for my mother, give her a nod and quietly close the door.

I knew my mother was needed in Grandpa's bedroom to say goodbye to him. Grandpa was dying of cancer, this I knew.

In those days grown-ups didn't tell children much, so I said nothing when Mum said to me, "Leone, I want you to take Alan for a nice walk along the road. Go as far as the twin blue gum trees and back."

I gave Alan a ride in his pushchair. I stayed bright for his sake, pretending, like Mum, nothing sad was happening. When we returned, Mum had packed a small case for me, smiled and said, "Leone, I've packed some clothes for you, so you can stay with the Borlases for a few days. If you go now you will be there before it gets dark."

It was a long and lonely walk. I had an ache somewhere inside me as if I was crying there.

When I arrived at the Borlases, I knocked on their kitchen door. Mrs Borlase opened it.

I couldn't hold back the sobs. "Grandpa is dead!" I felt a tremendous feeling of warmth and love as she hugged me. Her hands were covered in flour.

A Special Dream

One night when I was ten, I dreamed I was sitting on the back of Borlases' truck, enjoying an apple. All the Borlase children were there as well as my brother, Alan. The truck with boxes was parked in the orchard while we picked ripe apples to fill them.

I looked up at the blue sky and noticed there was one small cloud moving along until it stopped right above me.

I heard a voice tell me to love God all my days and listen to Him. When I woke up, I felt loved.

This was the beginning of my awareness that I had a heavenly father who loved me.

Squeaky Clean

I never forgot the dream I had of the cloud stopping above my head and hearing God's voice telling me to listen to His son, Jesus. I decided the best way to listen was to read what Jesus taught. This was easy to find in my Bible because the words were in red. I knew that Jesus was baptised by John the Baptist. John put Him right under the water of the Jordan River, as if self was buried. When He came up out of the river, it was to a new life to serve God.

When I was baptized and came up out of the water, I felt squeaky clean. I remember thinking it was like starting a shiny new page in my exercise book. I always wrote my neatest on the clean new page, and then scribbled on the back of that page. I knew I wanted to have only clean pages with good writing on them in my new life.

College Train Girl

I was almost thirteen when college days began. I went by train from Richmond to Nelson and from there we college girls formed a 'croc'- a long line of school children walking in pairs. We never spoke to the boys, nor they to us and yet in the train we'd lean far out of the windows to wave to each other.

Some nights before I slept, I would cringe at the thought of how far we used to reach out to wave, but next morning in the daylight it seemed less risky.

For us new girls on the train, the chilling initiation came when each of us, one at a time, had to venture into the boys' carriage and sing them a song!

When my turn came I was relieved the boys sat quietly while I sang 'There's An Old Spinning Wheel in the Parlour', then speedily retreated to the safety of the girls' carriage. I was ever so glad the initiation trauma was successfully over.

Lady in Red

When I was fourteen I went from Nelson to Christchurch to stay with my Aunty Dolle. She was a dress buyer for Hayes big store. She told me there was to be a mayoral reception in their store for an amazing woman who was cycling across the countries of the world. Everyone knew of her as 'The Lady in Red.' She always wore a red track suit. I think her bicycle was also red. She was so fascinating. Small and in no way trying to impress the crowd, she seemed thoughtful and quiet.

I still wonder if the rumours spread about her in New Zealand were true. Was she a spy who carried secret information in the hollow parts of her bike? These rumours were never confirmed; however another rumour at this time, that of the death of King George the Fifth, did turn out to be true. I was in a jeweller's shop buying a rock crystal necklace to take home for Mum, when the news was broadcast through the jeweller's radio.

Better Never Late

When I was sixteen I used to bike to our church hall each week to the 'Happy Hour' we held there for children. I enjoyed going there to help.

On this particular occasion I arrived a bit late. At the doorway I smiled at the supervisor, and light-heartedly said, "Better late than never."

In his extra deep voice he replied, "Better never late." This remark influenced me to be punctual from then on.

A Second Florence Nightingale

When I turned eighteen I started training to be a nurse in Blenheim hospital. I enjoyed the lectures and loved writing home about all the funny things that happened.

The sister in charge of the men's ward where I was first placed, told me to go and wash the verandah. On my knees scrubbing away, I dreamed of being the second Florence Nightingale. Then a scathing voice asked me, "Nurse Roiall, what are you doing down there?"

"Washing the verandah, Sister," I replied. The young men patients began to snigger. They knew what was happening. They knew I was meant to be washing them.

Whenever we junior nurses made mistakes worth laughing over later, we enjoyed sharing them with each other. I told them about a time when I was pushing a heavy trolley-load of soda water bottles along the hall when I saw the matron and a doctor heading my way. I tried hard not to panic because I needed skill to steer the trolley left to enter the ward.

The bottles began to shake and wobble, and then toppled right over at the matron's and the doctor's feet. How humiliating.

But it was so delightful to share this later with my junior nurse friends. Lois surprised us all by saying,

"That's nothing! The same thing happened to me, but on my trolley was a patient from theatre, not expected to recover. The doctor and matron had her off the floor and back onto that trolley before I scrambled up from the floor."

Later we heard the patient recovered, blissfully unaware of the fall. Perhaps it was the shock treatment she needed to survive!

A Letter From Dad

By about the tenth month into my training as a nurse, I realised it had been only my idea to be the second Florence Nightingale. My own egotistical idea and not God's direction. It was at this time a letter arrived from my Dad. He invited me to visit him in Australia. For years I had been longing to see him again, to persuade him to come home to Mum.

With Mum's permission to resign from nursing, I planned to book my passage on the fast ship Mariposa to Australia, but I was informed the ship was needed as a troop ship. So I went with friends to the Nelson wharf, and waved to the young soldiers we recognised. We joined others singing the latest hit song: "We'll meet again ... I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

As I sang, I thought "Will I ever meet Dad again?"

If

I started work in a photographer's studio in Nelson, where I stayed until called up for military service. Looking back, I recognized a lot of 'ifs'. If I had stayed in Blenheim nursing; if I had sailed to Australia; if I had refused to go to a local dance to please a girl friend who enjoyed dancing far more than I did - then I would never have met Evan. Five days after that dance I went to Christchurch to join the army.

At the dance, Evan had made the comment that the army was going to be ruined because women were joining. I gently admitted to him I was one of them! But he still asked me out each evening before I left, and then he wrote often when we were apart. I became a Site Sergeant in an anti-aircraft battery. Then we married and had a happy year together while Evan trained as a pilot before going overseas. We chose the name John Evan for our first baby.

Friendly Plane Above

As the date for John's birth drew near, Evan would sometimes fly over our house in Christchurch. I'd run outside and wave a tea towel. Evan would dip a wing to let me know he saw me, and then fly off. My mother came from Nelson to stay a few days. It so happened the evening I needed to go to the hospital, Evan was night flying, so didn't know until later he had a son.

After the birth they wheeled me into a ward with about six other women. The first thing I said to them was, "I'd rather have a baby any day than go to the dentist!"

I'm Never Out Of Your Sight

During the year 1952 in Christchurch, I was seated at my desk, absorbed in last minute revision for an exam the following day, when I was interrupted by an urgent thought.

Go to your Aunty Dolle. She needs you.

I wondered if too much study was causing me to hear things! However the words persisted. Finally, for peace of mind, I cycled to my aunt's home. I knocked at the back door, and waited a while but nobody came. I realized I must have imagined the voice, and turned to get on my bike. Then I heard the voice again.

Go to the front door and knock loudly.

I walked around to the front door and knocked loudly. There was no response. I decided that was enough and would have returned home, but again I heard the urgent message.

Return to the back door and keep on knocking loudly.

Eventually the door was unlocked and my very distraught aunt stood there weeping. She had shut all the doors and windows, and then turned on the gas to commit suicide. The constant knocking at the doors alarmed her, so she had turned off the gas.

Not only had our loving God saved her from an untimely death, but He gave her the opportunity to forgive her son for deciding to marry someone she thought was not good enough for him, and to change her attitude.

My aunt genuinely enjoyed the wedding day, and came to appreciate her daughter-in-law.

The Salesman

After Evan trained as a teacher, we lived in one of Dilworth School's houses. One morning I answered a knock at the front door. There stood a salesman.

He offered to demonstrate a new vacuum cleaner to show the difference it would make to my carpet. Politely but firmly I assured him we had a vacuum cleaner. I didn't tell him it was ancient, or that we could not afford a new one.

He gave me a friendly smile, stepped into the hall and plugged in the cleaner. Of course the carpet looked cleaner, but I was ready to firmly tell him again I was not interested in buying it. As he unplugged it, he gave me a cheery smile and said, "I'll be right back."

I felt so helpless and angry at his persistence. He was soon back with a heavy box, and a note. "Read this, madam, and have a happy day," he beamed as he picked up his demonstration cleaner and made a hasty retreat.

I opened the note. It read, "Accept this gift from friends. Do not try to find out who gave you this vacuum cleaner but think of someone you can pass on a kind deed to. So kindness spreads."

Stranger In The Tram

My friend, Lorna and I were in a tram going to our separate homes after being at a Franciscan meeting. "I usually drive," Lorna said, "so it's fun to have a tram ride."

"I enjoy riding in buses and trams," I replied. "People are so fascinating! I always pray before I leave home for Father God to show me who I should pray for."

"How do you know?"

"I find myself interested in one passenger. No word has been said but I somehow have an inner feeling this is the one. I sense God's compassion for this person, and although I am not praying out loud I know God hears my thoughts."

"Oh, Leone, I've just been reading Psalm 139, where King David sang of God's knowledge of our ways, even our thoughts!"

"Don't look around, Lorna," I said, "but there is an elderly man seated right down the back, who I believe is feeling lonely and wonders if God cares."

Then I prayed,

"Father, may he have an awareness right now of your love for him. May peace return, and may you give him fresh hope for the future. May someone he loves come back into his life. In Jesus' name I pray."

Lorna squeezed my arm and quietly said, "Amen."

We quietly sat, each deep in our own thoughts until we heard the tram bell ring. Someone had pulled the cord, ready to get out at the next stop. The elderly man walked up the aisle and paused right by us. Leaning down, he looked into my eyes and said,

"I don't know why I am telling you this, but my name is Dwight Jensen."

He walked on to the exit, the tram stopped, and he disappeared into the night.

Both Lorna and I knew God was with him.

Coconuts And Shells

When we lived in Papua New Guinea, many of the Papuan girls wanted to have a white wedding, rather than a traditional Papuan wedding. However the bishop urged us to discourage this. We were relieved when our house girl shyly told us she was getting married in Papuan dress. Winifred scraped the flesh out of a coconut and dried it. Then she polished her coconut shell bracelets until they shone.

The wedding day finally arrived. Winifred looked so beautiful in her tapa cloth skirt, bare top and necklaces of shells, no doubt kept in her family from the days they traded with shells only. Her short tight black curls were covered with dyed coconut. As we waited for the ceremony to begin, I thought of the first day Winifred had arrived at our home. She had walked so regally towards our house, balancing a large bunch of bananas on her head. Evan had hurried to her, offering to carry them. He had no idea of their weight and staggered under this huge bunch, but Winifred was too polite to laugh.

When the Papuan minister asked, "Who gives this woman to be married to David?" I heard no response, but the bride's father elbowed her with a strong shove towards the bridegroom. We were too polite to laugh!

The Bishop's Coffee

Some of my diamond moments have been those which have made me laugh. This was one of those times. When we lived at the Popondetta mission station, we knew we should not buy coffee. It was simply too much of a luxury.

But whenever the bishop came to visit, we would share afternoon tea at the home of the school principal, and he would enjoy some coffee, which he knew was kept especially for him. The bishop had an unusual habit while he talked with us. Every now and then, he would turn his head away and spit. Nobody ever remarked about it, and he never mentioned it, so for some time, we took it to be an idiosyncrasy.

It was some time later that the principal's wife decided to examine the coffee percolator. She had always left the house-girl to make the coffee. It was obvious the girl had never rinsed it out, because underneath the strainer were many, many cockroaches!

Frangipani Flowers

Whenever I see frangipani flowers with their fragrant cream petals tinged with yellow, I am reminded of the frangipani trees growing at the mission station in Popondetta, New Guinea. I also hear the deep voice of Beryl, my house-girl, saying to me, "Sister, you will give me white wedding?" She kept on slowly washing the dishes.

"Are you getting married soon?" I casually asked her.

"Tomorrow, sister," she replied.

After school that day, I hurried to the store, which sold everything, from eggs to pearls. I bought enough mosquito netting for a veil, and before Beryl finished our housework, I checked to see if she had a white dress and white jandals; whether she had arranged for the Papuan minister to marry them and at what time. "Yes, sister," she assured me. She arranged to come to our home in plenty of time the next day for me to help her look her best as a bride. I picked some frangipani flowers for her to hold the next day. She looked beautiful.

"When you reach the church, Beryl, walk slowly down to the front."

Evan and I went on ahead with the children to make sure everyone was seated in the church, and wait for the bride to appear. We waited, and waited some more, expecting Beryl to arrive at any moment. Eventually, I went outside to see if she was almost at the church. Then I saw her, still close to our home, walking ever so slowly. She had yet to cross the wooden bridge and come up the hill. I signaled in vain for her to hurry, but she had taken to heart my instruction to walk slowly, and this she would do all the way. The Papuans are never in a hurry, so why get stressed? As we waited, I thought of the times I had told her to leave a routine job to do something of greater importance, only to have her methodically keep doing what she was doing, as she said in her slow deep voice, "Yes, sister."

Now, so many years later, whenever I admire the perfectly created frangipani flowers, and breathe in their heavenly fragrance, I thank God for them and for tender memories of life in Papua New Guinea.

A Flying Fox, So Close

When we first arrived in Papua New Guinea, we were fascinated by the dark cloud of flying foxes that passed overhead each evening in search of food. We were told they are partial to pawpaws, which grew on small trees on our mission station. One evening, the family gathered together in our bedroom, hoping to hear a flying fox outside in the pawpaw tree. We slowly propped up our wooden shutter. We stood motionless and silent, as we watched a flying fox hanging upside down, eating the orange flesh of a melon shaped pawpaw, and expertly spitting out the black pips. Suddenly, it let go of the branch, and with wings outspread, glided silently towards us, then veered to the right, as its inbuilt sonar detected the house.

Daisy

Our teenage son, Peter, arrived home one evening with a very precious gift which he held out to me.

It was a beautiful white daisy he had picked on the top of the hill as he watched the sun set over Kaeo.

A Divine Appointment

While we were living in Kaeo, Evan and I had the idea of buying some land and a house for removal to establish on it. It had to be a large house as we were keen to have a home where hitch- hikers could have a meal and a bed for the night. For some reason we decided to go to a remote area where there might possibly be a large old home for sale to transfer. We packed a picnic lunch and set out after church one Sunday morning heading towards Horeki on the Hokianga Harbour. When we arrived, we began to drive around in search of the type of house we wanted. Evan noticed a general store open and decided to ask there if they knew of a house for sale. The woman serving said, "Yes I know of one and as a matter of fact here comes the owner right now!" Along the road staggered a man, who had obviously known the local pub was open!

"Excuse me," Evan said. The man swayed and tried to focus his bleary eyes on my husband.

"We have been told you have a house for sale."

"Thasright," he replied. "Follow me." He stumbled into his car and took off, with us driving at a safe distance behind as he veered from side to side. When he parked his car outside a small and shabby house, we knew it was not the place we were looking for. We both had an awareness that this could well be a divine appointment, so we accepted his invitation to "Cumonin". He went to a cupboard, took out a bottle which he waved towards us and asked, "Wanna drink?" We declined with thanks and after he had taken a swig, instead of asking us if we were interested in buying his house, he asked us what we thought about abortion. When we told him our opinion, he took a closer look at us and asked, "Are you two Chrishtins?"

We told him we were. He became very angry and said, "Wot kinda father is God to let his son die on a cross? I'd like to shoot im with my gun loaded in my bedroom!"

It was a golden opportunity to explain why God allowed Jesus to die on the cross, and to share how loving and forgiving God is. We told the man how Jesus rose from the dead, and all who accept him as their Saviour will live eternally.

"When you're dead, nailed down in a coffin, that's it, finished." He banged his fist down on the wooden arm of his chair.

This seemed to be final, and we stood up to go, because it was getting dark and we had a long trip back to our home. He waved an arm at us and told us firmly to sit down again. In my imagination I could see headlines in the paper: Middle Aged Couple Shot Dead. But as we sat, I saw such anxiety in his eyes, which confirmed to me this was indeed a divine appointment.

"Do you reckon God forgives men who were in the air force during the war and shot people? That was my job as a gunner and I can't forget."

We were there for another hour trying to assure him of God's unconditional and unfailing love for all who confess their deeds and ask Him to forgive them. When we left, we hadn't quite convinced him, although he commented on the amazing life cycle of the monarch butterfly as we waved goodbye. We wrote to him and he wrote back. He was in earnest as he read Scriptures. It was a shock a few months later to read his death notice in the paper; but we were confident God had directed us to him, and accepted his repentance and welcomed him home.

A Gift Of Daffodils

As I walked wearily up Queen Street, Auckland, after a busy day shopping, I passed some daffodils for sale in a bucket at the entrance to a shop. How fresh and bright they looked in contrast to the city's concrete paths, high-rise buildings and noisy traffic. Daffodils like these grew in the fields near our home in the country, so I had no reason to buy these. I walked on.

"Buy a bunch of daffodils for the staff at the Christian cassette tape library to cheer them."

It was just a gentle whisper, but I knew where that thought had come from. I walked back to the shop and bought some. To reach the library, I had to walk up a steep side road, then climb a steep flight of stairs. When I entered the room there was a grumpy looking man on duty. He looked up but didn't smile. As I handed him the daffodils, I explained how God had put the thought into my mind to buy these to cheer him. He took the gift without saying a word. I nervously hurried out and stumbled down the stairs feeling so embarrassed and foolish until I clearly heard God ask, "Didn't he need cheering?"

A Rose For Mother

My frail mother's life was ending. We were going to the hospital to visit her, and I was taking her a full-blown rose because I believed God had given me this idea.

We knew she was in a coma, but maybe she dreamed she was walking in a beautiful garden of roses, with Jesus at her side talking to her.

Arriving at her bedside, I gently held the rose close to her nose. Smiling lines deepened, and her lips turned upwards in a smile.

She opened her blue eyes, looked at the rose, sighed with pleasure and whispered, "Lovely!"

This was the first coherent word she had spoken for many days, and as it turned out, her last.

Amaryllis Lilies

Years ago, when we were living in Kaeo, our twin daughters and a friend gathered a large bunch of amaryllis belladonna lilies from a nearby paddock. They arrived home and gave me this beautiful gift for my birthday. Their eyes were sparkling with joy as they arranged the pink-tipped lilies in vases.

When the time eventually came for us to build a cottage in Whangarei, among the plants we chose to have in our garden were Amaryllis bulbs. Over the years they have increased in number, and I never cease to marvel at God's steady timing. When the mass of green leaves die, tall slender stalks grow up with buds which unfold into pink-tipped white six-petalled flowers. Not once over the last eighteen years have these lilies failed to appear on my birthday.

Wildflowers For Peggy

My friend Peggy was dying. On my way to the country hospital to visit her, I picked wildflowers from the side of the road, because I believed God had told me she liked wildflowers best.

By the time I arrived at the hospital entrance, the flowers were drooping in my hot hand. Visitors were arriving with professionally wrapped roses, complete with ribbons and bows bought from florist shops. I felt self-conscious and embarrassed, for it looked as if I didn't care for my friend. I began to wonder if I really heard from God or whether it was my imagination.

When I entered Peggy's room, she saw the wilted flowers and her blue eyes shone with pleasure. She smiled and asked, "How did you know that I love wild flowers best?"

Cake Crumbs For Sparrows

At the Kerikeri tearooms, near the old Stone Store, sparrows noticed the cake crumbs held out on my hand. I watched and waited, while they fluttered and hovered, so near to a meal.

Finally, one grew bold enough. I was delighted by the gentle touch of the sparrow's feet as he took food from my hand, and flew off with the treat. I was encouraged by his boldness, and so were a few other sparrows who came for a helping themselves; but others, too timid, flew away hungry. How like the timid sparrows I would be, if I missed the bread of life God offers me. That night I read John 6:35 again with a new understanding.

"And Jesus said to them, 'I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me shall not hunger, and He who believes in Me shall never thirst.'"

Destined To Fly

I gazed in delight one Christmas Day

At a tiny nest of hardened clay,

Safely attached to a high shelf

Where swallows' eggs hatched

And fledglings fed.

From there in such joyful flight

They dived and twittered

Around my head.

What a message for the New Year!

Come what may there is nothing to fear.

For He who programmed the swallows' ways

Will fulfil His purpose for all of my days.

From the clay to the sky, I am destined to fly.

Empty Sparrows' Nests

The sparrows' nests are empty now

Where their young were born and fed.

The fledglings have left their comfort zone,

Choosing to fly instead.

They're programmed to search for food,

To sleep, to fly, and procreate,

Build nests, hatch eggs, gather food

To feed their young.

The cycle does not deviate.

May I fulfil God's plan for me!

A Tall Australian

One Sunday afternoon as Evan and I set out for a short drive to Whangaroa Harbour, we passed a tall young hitchhiker with a huge pack on his back. Taking it for granted that he was heading for Cape Reinga, we didn't offer him a ride, as we were about to turn off along a side road.

However when we left Whangaroa to go home, there was this same hitchhiker on the side road heading towards the Whangaroa Back-packers' Lodge! So we passed him a second time because he was now travelling in the opposite direction to us. It was raining and I suggested to Evan that we offer him a ride to the lodge. "He's young and strong and has a good coat on," Evan replied. It was then that I heard very clearly, "The Good Samaritan."

"We cannot pass him by, Evan!" I said. "Although he's not lying wounded on the road, he is in need of help, for God just reminded me of the Good Samaritan." So Evan swung the car around, stopped beside the young man, and invited him home to dinner. He gratefully accepted. There he met the other young people who were staying with us, and had a hot shower and dinner. After dinner he came with all of us to Kerikeri for the evening church service, though declaring he wasn't 'religious'. On the way home he shared how he had never before seen so much love and joy.

The following morning Neil set out for Cape Reinga. He accepted a New Testament from us to read and waved goodbye. It was such a delight when he returned after about a week and told us that he kept reading the book we gave him and had so many questions to ask us about it. His feet were badly blistered so we invited him to stay until they were healed. During those days he spent a lot of time outside smoking and thinking, until one morning he said he could no longer stand the taste of cigarettes and threw packets of them away.

One evening when Evan and I drove into our carport, Neil opened the door to the house and stood there smiling at us. He had always looked so sad, accentuated by his drooping moustache. He called out "Hallelujah!" and as we hurried indoors, he told us what had happened.

He had decided to put a toll call through to Australia to see how his parents were. When he told them he was happy and staying with some Christians, they were alarmed and told him to get out of that house at once or his father would come over and get him away from those 'Moonies'. (Neil was twenty-six.) They were convinced he had become entangled with a weird cult.

When he put down the receiver, darkness crept into him like he used to feel before he met us. He was so scared, he went into his bedroom and knelt beside his bed. "I need to know if you are real, Jesus!" he cried. Immediately the darkness left and was replaced with such a warm glow from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and he began to shake, not with fear but exquisite joy. He was still shaking as he told us that when he came to New Zealand, life had become meaningless. He admitted that he had been a chain smoker, a gambler, an alcoholic, and had a violent temper. Feeling depressed, he wrote a note to the friends he was living with in Christchurch, to let them know he was off on his own, and then he set out to journey to the top of the North Island, there to commit suicide.

The weeks following Neil's conversion were such happy ones for us all. He was baptised and kept singing, "Praise God for His wonderful love." But he wanted his parents to experience the peace and joy he had, knowing now how much God loved them. He took his Bible up the hill to ask God when he should go home. He sat against a tree trunk with his eyes shut, and patted Garm, our dog, who had arrived to keep him company. Garm had just been rolling in cow dung! Neil was furious and yelled at him to get on home and threw clods of dirt at him.

I was in the kitchen when Neil arrived home and told me what had happened, and that he had heard nothing from God. It seemed clear to me that God had given Neil an object lesson that would stay vividly in his mind. So I explained to Neil that he was not to get angry when his parents drank and gambled, because it was a natural way of life to them, just as it was natural for Garm to roll in dung. I advised him not to yell at them but to live his Christian life there, showing them love and kindness which would speak louder than words. So Neil left us and after a few weeks we received a letter from him telling us that he had failed to impress his parents. "I blew me top," he wrote, and explained he was back on the road again! Neil left us no address. We kept praying for him over the weeks and months of silence that followed.

After about a year, Neil arrived at the school in Kerikeri where we were both teaching and said he could only stay a few moments as he had an uncle waiting for him outside. He seemed quite agitated and kept assuring us that he was still a Christian. We prayed with him, gave him a hug and he hurried away.

A month or so later we received a note from Neil explaining why he had been so agitated. He had planned to let us know that he was dying of cancer, but couldn't tell us. Again no address but he assured us he was in hospital and a caring chaplain was a great comfort to him. He wanted us to know he had the peace that only God can give.

Gifts Of Joy

Winter sun is shining

There's reason to be smiling

God's gifts of joy providing

Sights and sounds delighting.

Catch the gifts that winter brings

See the gilded sparrows' wings

With beak so wide, a thrush sings

Shaming earthly quarrellings.

See dew-rubies sparkling

Raindrop-diamonds dazzling,

Arum lilies unfurling

Chimney smoke curling.

Lawn daisies growing

Daisy chains inspiring.

God, I am adoring

You for love unfailing.

God Rules Supreme

We enter now the month of June

World news fills our hearts with gloom

Many people are in deep despair.

A thrush song trills through the air.

Orphans weep, martyrs die

Women cry out, "Oh God, why?

Where's Your mercy, don't You care?"

Daphne fragrance fills the air.

Evil makes men's hearts grow cold.

Of such days our God foretold.

A sparrow twitters cheerily

As if he chirps, "God cares for me."

My loving Father rules supreme,

And nothing is as it would seem.

A brilliant monarch butterfly

Flies unconcerned across the sky.

God's Loving Care

Fuchsia bushes clad in new leaves

With ballerina flowers in pink array

Gladden my heart, while a gentle breeze

Causes the daisies to nod and sway.

Once fluttering fledglings, now swift of wing

Dart confidently from my cat Zebedee's leap

While long-legged pukekos quietly pass,

White tails flash, warning him his distance to keep.

Oh, how I love this warm November.

Ripening fruit, rose-fragrant air!

How could I possibly fail to remember

I'm in Father God's most loving care?

Orange Flowers

At a school-fair garden stall, I asked for a plant which would produce orange flowers. I took it home, dug it into a sunny place where I nurtured it while waiting for buds to appear. They were so unattractive, with no sign of orange, but as the flowers opened, I marvelled at their design, and discovered I had a swan plant. Monarch butterflies laid their eggs on the swan plant leaves, and caterpillars later hatched and fed.

Then each spent time in a green pendant chrysalis spotted with gold, from which they eventually emerged transformed into Monarch butterflies with beautiful orange wings.

How often we long for something and plead with God to grant our request! But in His wisdom, and to our delight, our Father gives us something far better.

Scent And Sight

The scent of lavender

From a purple garden,

Easter lilies glowing white

In cooling shade,

A laden tree of apples

Growing red,

Happy silvereyes in flight

Well fed

From a tree of figs.

Oh such joy in my heart!

So Still On A Petal

For several days I went into my garden to see if a small beetle the size of a thumbtack was still there. It intrigued me to find the insect sitting so still on a petal, and I was fascinated by its back, which had two round white eyes and a white beak.

Next time I went to stand and stare at the beetle, it moved slightly, revealing it was actually a spider! I had arrived just in time to see the true identity of the beetle exposed, before the little spider hurried away on a silvery web attached to the petal. Help me, Father God, to remain unmasked!

While Olympic Games Were On

There are floppy frilly petunias in pink and white,

Pendants of wisteria on the arch above the gate.

Crimson rhododendrons are dazzling bright,

Tall-stemmed aquilegias are looking so sedate

Furry catkins dangle from the aspen in the dell.

Blackbirds and thrushes sort out their territory

Ballerina fuchsias grow beside daisies annabelle

Riroriro birds are warbling to each other cheerily

As they gather moss and cobwebs for their nest.

All this was happening while the Olympic games were on,

Oblivious of mankind's pageantry and zest,

And their cheers when medals of gold were won!

When we complete our race on earth victoriously,

And enter God's kingdom midst loud acclamation,

What eternally glorious splendour we'll see!

We'll joyfully participate in heaven's celebration,

Sing with countless angels in worship and praise

As the redeemed from every tribe and nation

See Jesus crowned by the Ancient of Days.

Steve Comes To Stay

Steve, an Australian hitchhiker, stayed with us for about two years. When he first came, we thought what a knowledgeable young man he was, as he gave his confident opinion and always added, "Definitely," pronounced defin-NATE-ly. He never did lose his confidence, but we no longer always asked for his opinion. He had such a sunny nature, and we loved him as a son.

Some time later, he had a job in a Kerikeri orchard and relied on people giving him rides when he hitched both ways. One evening he arrived home in time for dinner and asked if the man who had just given him a ride could stay for a meal. Of course we were delighted.

The guest was an old man who had given Steve a ride all the way from Kerikeri in an ancient car. Before we started the meal, we closed our eyes while Evan gave God our thanks for the food. However, before we said 'Amen,' the visitor began to pray, not only for the food but his good health. As he went on praising God for so many blessings, I thought, "At last we have an angel in disguise here!"

I opened my eyes and observed such a frail looking old man, with gnarled fingers and only a few teeth, but his face shone with such joy that I was certain he was an angel!

After the meal, I asked him to sign our visitor's book. I wondered what he would write for his address, but never guessed what it would be. Without hesitation he wrote down the name of a retirement village in Kaikohe, a town that was miles away.

When we phoned there, those in charge were relieved to have news of him. He had gone for a short drive hours before. We suggested he stay with us the night and Steve could accompany him in the morning as far as Kerikeri, and then set him on the right road for the rest of the way. This they did.

Gerald's Visit

On one occasion we had about five young lady hitchhikers who stayed the night before setting out further north. One of the young men staying with us, Gerald, had recently returned from Israel, so he demonstrated some Israeli dances, which we all tried. It was a happy time.

The hitchhikers thanked us and went on their way. Soon afterwards Gerald announced it was time for him to go. He planned to visit his mother, who lived further north.

I went out to see him drive off, and smiled as I waved goodbye, but I doubted he had a mother up north. As I turned to go inside, I heard God speak to me: "Leone, you didn't reach out to him with my love."

I hurried inside to find Evan, and shared with him how I had doubted Gerald's integrity and had thought of him as a facetious young man. Now I had been lovingly rebuked, so while Evan held me in his arms, I asked God to forgive me and grant me another chance to reach Gerald with God's love. Then Evan admitted he too had felt the same, so he also asked God to forgive him.

About a week later we recognised Gerald's car coming up our drive. We were being given a second chance. How warmly we greeted him!

He stayed about a week. One morning as I pegged out the washing, Gerald came over and pegged out the tea towels. "I suppose you think I'm flippant," he said.

"Yes, I have thought that, Gerald," I replied. "Please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. I have been facetious to hide my grief," he said. "I have just had a precious visit to my mother's home, but how I wish she were happily married to a faithful man. My father divorced her and he has been remarried and divorced several times since. His only love is himself and his money."

A Precious Dream

One night at Felicity House I had a special dream which is as vivid today as the night I dreamt it.

It started with Evan seated at one end of the dining room table. About eight young people were seated along the sides. I came in with the last dish of vegetables, placed it on the table, and sat down. I wondered why I didn't sit at the end of the table opposite Evan, where I normally did; but nobody seemed to notice. Evan gave thanks.

Those who sat on the side opposite to me were looking with amazement at someone walking through the doorway from the kitchen. They were sighing and some had tears in their eyes. It was Jesus. He sat down at the end of the table. We all experienced such joy as we ate together and laughed and talked. The cutlery dazzled and shimmered as we ate. There was so much talking and laughter, the others didn't notice when Jesus quietly left the table.

I hurried into the kitchen after Him, but He was going through the back doorway into the carport. By the time I entered the carport, He was walking along the path.

"JESUS!"I cried out loudly to Him.

He stopped and turned to look at me as I hurried to Him. "What is the most important thing for me to do, Lord?"

"For you to know Me," He gently answered and vanished.

Running From God

One Sunday morning we said goodbye to our daughter, Rose, as she set out to return to Whangarei, where she was nursing at the time. A short time later a young man in a sports car drove up our driveway. We were amazed to see Rose sitting beside the driver! Her car had broken down and the young man had offered to drive her home.

Steve, who was living with us at the time, was confident that he'd be able to get her car going. We thanked the young man, and then drove to where Rose's car was parked. Steve soon had the engine going and away went Rose, waving her thanks and goodbye. We followed along behind her for a few hundred metres, until she came to another halt. Several times it broke down and each time Steve managed to get it going. Finally Evan suggested that the next time it started, Rose should turn the car around, and glide as far as she could downhill back towards our home in Kaeo.

As Evan turned our car around, we saw two young men with backpacks heading towards Kaeo. We stopped and offered them a ride. On the way we explained to the hitchhikers what we were doing, and one of them said he knew a lot about cars, and offered to look at the engine. So when Rose's car came to halt, the young man took a look at the engine. He discovered there was an air bubble in the petrol pipe. It wasn't long before he had the engine running smoothly.

We invited the hitchhikers in for lunch. They readily accepted and told us they had only recently met. Tony, from England, had been hitchhiking for three and a half years, and Ben, from Auckland, had been on the road for several months.

Ben was happy to stroll around the garden and orchard with Evan, while Tony was keen to see the bookmarks I was preparing. He began to pace up and down in my study as he confessed he was a backslidden Christian.

He explained that he had "blown it" and, feeling ashamed, had decided to leave England and travel; but this hadn't set things right. As we discussed the situation, it became clear to him that he should have confessed his sin and asked God for forgiveness.

I reminded him that God had a plan for his life and to my amazement I then quoted a verse I had been struggling to memorise for days: "We are God's workmanship created in Christ Jesus to do good works which God prepared in advance for us to do." Ephesians 2:10.

Meanwhile, Ben had been telling Evan that he was a Christian but was nervous about baptism. Evan was able to share the Word with him and this soon helped to settle his fears.

It was a very different couple of hitchhikers who jauntily walked down our drive later that day. We all praised God for the way He knows us so well and loves to help us, and how His timing for this encounter was so perfect.

Patrick's Encounter With Christians

As Evan drove a carload of us in our Holden station wagon on our way home from church in Kerikeri, we passed one hitchhiker and did not stop to offer him a ride. Evan explained that there was no room, but a while later we saw another young man hoping for a ride. It was raining and so we all told Evan to please stop and offer him a ride. I said that I could move over and he could squeeze in on the front seat. So Evan stopped, and soon after the young man, who told us his name was Patrick, turned around and asked, "How come all your shining happy faces? What are you into?" With one voice we all said, "Jesus."

Just before we came to our drive I invited Patrick to have dinner with us. He told me that he wanted to press on to Cape Reinga, but he accepted an invitation to a cup of coffee first. While the young people set the table for dinner I made Patrick some coffee. He told me that he was a Buddhist, recently returned from years in India studying there with a guru. My comment was that Buddha died seeking, but Jesus claimed that He was the way the truth and the life. I realised then that I had probably put him off staying long, so was amazed when he asked, "Do you mind if I accept your invitation to dinner?"

Patrick stayed for several days. We really loved him as a son, and he was very happy meeting so many young people who were staying with us. He told us he had been brought up in an orphanage in England and had been very unhappy there. Every evening after dinner Evan read from the Bible wherever we happened to be up to. We always told our guests this so they would not think Evan had deliberately chosen certain verses to convict them. Sometimes he would suggest we all have a turn at reading a verse, and Patrick was willing to be included. "I don't believe this," he said, "but I'll read it." Sometimes he would start to sing one of the choruses we played on tape, and then would quickly stop, and often he would go up the hill, sit cross-legged and play his piccolo.

The day he decided to continue his trip north, he first went up the hill to play his piccolo and no doubt meditate. While he was there, Barbara, who was my young friend and helper at the time, suggested partly in fun that we put our hands on Patrick's shoes and ask God to turn them around if He wanted Patrick to stay longer with us.

When he was all set to go, I offered Patrick a small New Testament. He took it politely but said it was only because we had been so kind to him that he accepted it. He added that he knew God was not a personal God but just a 'force'. Barbara said to him that there is no such thing as reincarnation and the Bible clearly states that it is appointed for man to die once and then face judgement.

We waved goodbye as he was offered a lift north. I can't recall how long it was before we heard a very loud knock on the back door. I opened it and was surprised to see our friend Ben, looking very upset, and behind him stood a white-faced Patrick! They came in and sat at the table while I made them a cup of coffee. Ben banged his fist down on the table and said, "Leone, I have been a badly backslidden Christian and I can't stand it any longer. I know God has been watching me and longing for me to repent! Would you please pray for me?" After prayer he wanted to go on his way and change his life style. Amazingly, Patrick decided to stay!

Some time later he explained that he had walked so far north but kept getting this very strong feeling he ought not to go to Cape Reinga. Eventually he decided to hitch a ride south and head for Auckland, to go back to the Buddhist home there. Along the road came Ben in his truck and stopped to give him a lift. He was astounded when Ben, nearing our drive, said, "I just want to call in here to see Leone. I won't be long." Up the drive he came, bringing Patrick with him, who heard it confirmed that God cares for each one of us, a truly personal God!

How wonderful it would be to write that Patrick became a Christian. The last we heard of him after about two happy weeks with us, was a phone call asking if he could return because where he was staying at the Buddhist home they all seemed so pale and lifeless; but he never came.

We believe that somewhere, sometime, he is going to be a follower of Jesus who is the way to eternal life. When he was up the hill playing his piccolo I had a vision of him throwing a spiked ring off his hand, and a gold crown appearing on his head. Evan told me that Patrick had explained to him that he wanted to become a Christian but felt he couldn't, because he was married to Buddhism and wouldn't be unfaithful.

Jayanti's Visit

One day we had a phone call from a young lady who had stayed at Felicity House. She told us she was with a group of Christians who were doing an outreach in Queen Street, Auckland. She had met a young Indian man who was an atomic physicist, working at the university science department doing research. When she had asked him how he liked New Zealand, he told her he was shocked to find such wickedness in a Christian country. "How would you like a few days in the country staying at Felicity House?" she had asked him.

So it was arranged we would drive down and take him home.

We arrived in the city half an hour early, so browsed in a Christian bookshop. I noticed a man crouched down looking at a book on the lowest shelf. I squatted down beside him and said, "Excuse me, but are you Indian?"

"I am," he answered.

"A Christian Indian?"

"Yes."

He was ever so polite, and I quickly told him about Jayanti and asked him what kind of book would interest this intellectual man. He stood, and after searching through some books, handed me one.

"This one," he said.

I took it to the counter and bought the true story of Sadhu Sundar Singh. We enjoyed having Jayanti with us as much as he appreciated meeting a lot of young Christians, and the beauty and peace of the country. He was always very polite, especially at meal times.

"Would you like some more?" I'd ask him. He would spread his hands over his stomach and reply, "No thank you, my belly is full."

I think he might have learnt English just from a text book. He read and reread the book I had bought, and asked us many questions. We were able to tell him New Zealand may be called a Christian country, but only those who asked Jesus into their lives and studied the Bible as a handbook for Christian living were real Christians.

We loved Jayanti and were sad to wave goodbye to him when he returned by bus to the university.

In our visitors' book he wrote: "The man from India visits New Zealand, loves the beauty of nature more than he loved it before, begins to feel the peace of God more than he felt before."

Steve, A Backseat Driver

Evan, Steve and I had been invited to some friends' place in Kerikeri to celebrate their wedding anniversary. It was a pleasant evening as Evan drove over the hills to their farm. All was peaceful until Evan decided to hold my hand. "What on earth?" he exclaimed. He managed to keep his right hand on the wheel but held the other up for us to see. It was covered in whipped cream from the sponge cake I was carefully balancing on my knees.

Laughing loudly, Steve shouted, "I'll steer! I'll steer!" He reached over from the back seat and clutched the wheel with both hands, while I grabbed tissues from a box and speedily wiped the cream off Evan's hand, before we had an accident.

All Bad!

Our good friend, Bunty, had a bach at Whatuwhiwhi (pronounced far-too-fee-fee). For fun Evan called it 'far too far far', but we accepted her kind offer to have a few days rest there after a busy time at Felicity House. While staying there, we decided to leave early one day and drive further north to admire the scenery. We cut our lunch and filled the thermos with tea. I went outside to hang a few things on the washing line, and heard a neighbour call to her daughter who was inside listening to the weather report. "What's the day going to be like?" she asked. I stayed to hear the answer, which soon came back: "Bad, all bad."

Evan and I decided we'd go for the drive anyway. We had such a happy trip, and on our way home we laughed about the weather, which proved to be not "Bad, all bad" at all, but "Good, all good."

666 On His Forehead

One day when Barbara, who was living with us, went on her bike to post some letters in the village, I was preparing bookmarks in the basement study when I heard someone knocking at the kitchen door. Hurrying up the stairs I reached the doorway to the kitchen when God spoke,

"Be still and know that I am God."

I could not move! I felt like a block of concrete.

Whoever was waiting at the door finally decided that nobody was at home. He began to walk away. As he passed a window I recognised him as a man who had 666 tattooed on his forehead. He had called us once when agitated, and asked Evan to pray for him as he had no peace.

We had been told he could be dangerous at times so I was glad to see him going, and prayed someone suitable would give him a ride before Barbara returned.

After about a minute, God told me to read Ephesians 5:11, and I found I could move again. I walked across the kitchen and took down a Bible on top of the fridge. Looking up the reference, I read: "Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness."

I was still gratefully rejoicing in God's protection when Barbara arrived. She wanted to know if a strange man had called. I told her what had happened and she related how she had met him walking purposefully towards our home. She had quickly biked on, praying all the way to the post office and back for my safety.

The Bookmark Idea

Twenty-three years had passed since the day I had heard God speak to me about my writing. He had told me that some day I would write a lot, but it would be for His glory and not mine. This particular evening, I listened to Joy Dawson speaking on a tape and became riveted by her words: "There is someone here tonight who writes a lot of letters. As soon as you pick up your pen, you know what to write and a verse of Scripture comes clearly to your mind to add. Take this more seriously. You have a letter-writing ministry."

From then on I began each letter with a verse, and decorated it with bees and flowers. I began receiving letters from people thanking me and saying they couldn't throw my letters away. It was then I had an idea which I believe came from God. I was to print the verse and decorate it, on a bookmark, so the missionaries could keep God's Word and throw away my letter. I enjoyed making these bookmarks, but just before Penelope married I had run out of paper for them. This seemed to be a good time to ask God if He would confirm that the bookmark idea was from Him, by providing the paper needed.

After the wedding, Evan's parents stayed in our Kaeo home, Felicity House, for a week or so to look after the young people who were staying there, while we had a quiet rest in their home at Howick. We only went out once, to buy more Christian paperbacks to put into dairies around the mid-north. The owner of the bookshop invited us to go down to the basement and asked us to overlook the mess. There was a man guillotining special card with a missionary's photo and her overseas address for her supporters. She happened to have stayed with us earlier, so it was exciting to have her address to write and encourage her.

Equally exciting was the fact that on the floor were hundreds of bookmark-size bits of light card. When we asked the man what he did with the pieces, he said "Burn them." He offered them to us, and as we gathered them up, we told him it was an answer to prayer and guidance.

On the way home we decided to call at a friend of Evan's parents to thank her for icing Penelope's wedding cake. Having never met her, we introduced ourselves when she opened the door. She welcomed us warmly and invited us in for a cup of tea. Her husband was in the lounge and after some small talk about the weather, I couldn't hold back any longer from telling her how God had confirmed my bookmark ministry.

When her husband got up and left the room I wondered if I had been babbling on too much, but he soon returned laden with exquisite wedding card paper for me, as well as a tin of very fine gold glitter. He explained that he was a printer and wanted me to have this material. On our way home to Kaeo we were laughing and thanking God for the incredible amount of bookmark material He had provided, which would last me for years. And when we arrived home, an uncle of Evan's called in with a pile of bookmark material!

I certainly had the message loud and clear - this bookmark ministry was God's idea.

The Tall Lady

I was so keen to draw the bookmarks well. I remembered a tall young lady, whose name I couldn't recall, giving me a few good hints about drawing, having done an art course. Now I thought, "Oh God, if only that tall lady could visit me again and give me some further advice!" But I didn't make it a prayer because it seemed too much to ask as this lady lived so far away.

A few days later, Jessie and Emily, two elderly sisters who were good friends of ours called in to ask Evan and me to pray for them. We had just finished praying for them when there was the sound of a vehicle coming up our drive. Evan went to see who was there and to my utter amazement, returned into the lounge with that tall lady!

She seemed excited as she said, "Leone, I'm holidaying at Dargaville and I was sure that God told me to come to see you because you wanted me to help you. Did I hear Him correctly?"

The two elderly ladies were smiling as they watched our excitement at knowing God had heard my desire, and that the artist had heard God and obeyed. She was a great help, and after she had left us, the two sisters insisted that I accept some money from them to pay the postage for letters and bookmarks to missionaries.

From that time on, until they died about six years later, they regularly provided me with postage money.

The Miracle

Not long after this visit, there was a storm during the night. When I got up in the morning and went downstairs to my study I could see that the books on my desk were wet. A window of the room upstairs had unhinged during the storm and driving rain had saturated the carpet and seeped through the floor above, down onto my desk. I had left my ring-binder with all my bookmark master copies on the middle of the desktop. I hurried over to see what damage had been done. On the desk around the ring-binder was a completely dry area! When I put my hand on the ring-binder it felt warm and I suddenly became aware of the presence of God in the room. I heard him say, "Take this ministry far more seriously. I want you to send each of the missionaries a copy of the verses of encouragement you have been gleaning over the past years, and ask them to have these translated into the heart language of the people they are helping."

The missionaries responded promptly and so began the making of bookmarks in many different languages. Over the years I learnt what different cultures preferred in art, and several times letters arrived from other missionaries who had seen a bookmark and asked if I would do some for their mission.

In this way I received letters from two Messianic Israeli pastors wanting verses in Hebrew and Russian, and before long other Israeli pastors wanted them too. So far, the most bookmarks have gone into Thailand, China, and to Jerusalem for the Christian Friends of Israel. There they are given to Russian Jews who have just immigrated to Israel, along with clothes and other provisions. Arabic bookmarks have gone to missionaries caring especially for orphans, and to teachers who are teaching English as a second language to Arab pupils. When missionaries in places like Ethiopia reach out to new tribes, they give them a bookmark with a verse in their own language to encourage them. Now and then I have had the name of a country on my mind like Chad, Brazil and Turkey, and before long I would be given an opening into those countries. Altogether about 50 languages have been done so far. God has been so gracious to me – the one who at first said, "Yuck, who wants a letter-writing ministry?" He has encouraged me all along the way. Occasionally I'd get discouraged and then He would give me a beautiful picture in my mind of me holding a dove's feather in my hand, or posting off envelopes full of bookmarks, each envelope looking like a dove. And I would hear God say, "Each one will hit the mark."

Now and then I would receive a photo of children in places like Orissa, India, or in Indonesia, each holding up a bookmark in their hand and smiling. I have received many letters from missionaries, especially in Muslim countries, who tell me that having bookmarks to offer the people, has brought smiles and friendship. God has a plan for everyone. He knows best what each of us should do, and even if our first reaction is "Yuck!" He can give us such joy and delight as we serve Him.

Better Than Ice Cream

It was an extra hot day, but I had planned a roast dinner. I was peeling the potatoes and kumaras, when two young ladies who were staying with us, came into the kitchen. "Why don't you and Evan have a breather, drive to the dairy and treat yourselves to an ice-cream?" they suggested.

Within minutes we were enjoying the drive to the village. We parked the car and strolled into the dairy. A customer was just receiving a meat pie he had ordered. He didn't seem too steady on his feet, and staggered against a small boy, presumably his grandson, as they headed for the door.

While the man behind the counter finished serving a teenager with a milkshake, we watched the drunk man reach his car and lift the child onto the front seat. The young boy stood on the seat while the older man opened the door to the driver's seat. Evan hurried over to reason with the man, not wanting him to drive in that state. I turned to the shopkeeper who had come out on to the pavement to look for the drunk customer. Pointing to the car I exclaimed," Do you know him? Can you stop him? He's too drunk to drive off with the little boy!"

"He owes me money for that pie, that's all I'm worried about," he said.

Leaving him there I hurried over to Evan who was offering to drive the man to his home. The man finished wiping his glasses, placed them back on his nose and gave Evan a scathing look as he started the car. It lurched forward. The boy fell off the seat.

Evan and I hurried to our car and we followed the vehicle as it careered from one side to the other up the winding metal road. Several times the young boy fell off his seat but managed to scramble on again.

As we rounded each bend of the road we were relieved to see their car still on the road and no on-coming traffic! We followed like this for some miles before turning a bend where the grandfather's car was nowhere in sight! Then we saw the back of the car sticking out of the ditch on the left side of the road. We stopped to see what damage had been done and saw the little boy climbing unhurt through an open window. He saw me hurrying towards him and as I held out my arms to him he ran and leapt into them. I cuddled him as if he were my own child. As soon as the grandfather emerged, he accepted a ride to his daughter's home.

"We'll be right now," he said as we pulled up at a house some miles further on. "We were in the pub and I told my daughter I'd take Ben home and look after him."

When we arrived home, dinner was nicely cooking and our helpers were amazed to hear our experience. We were all so aware that we had been part of one of God's rescue plans, for the perfect timing of the event had the seal of God on it.

A Chain Around His Neck

One afternoon in the Kaeo supermarket, I had just started to select items to put in my trolley, when I heard loud whistling. A bearded and bare-footed young man had entered the shop and begun to put groceries in a metal basket. He went out of sight along a different aisle to mine but God spoke to me. "I want you to speak to that young man."

Eventually we met, and he was about to pass me, when I said quietly to him, "You sound very happy. I hope you are happy in the Lord."

He both surprised and embarrassed me by answering loudly, "Too right I'm happy! I'm saved by the grace of God. Hallelujah!" We had quite a few young Christians staying with us at the time so I invited him home to dinner to meet them and my husband. He gladly accepted.

When we began our meal it was obvious that he was hungry. He told us that he had been fencing but his work was over, so we invited him to stay for a few days, which he did.

During that time he used to walk energetically around our garden quoting memory verses from Scripture which he had learnt during a Navigator's course. On one occasion I asked him what it was he had on a chain around his neck. He quickly covered it with his hand and assured me it was nothing much.

However a few nights later during a meeting at our church, he went outside for some time, and only returned shortly before the end of the service.

On the way home in the car, he told us that he clearly heard God ask him what the junk was he had around his neck, and then tell him to take it off. He left the meeting, hurried down to the Kerikeri Stone Store, and flung the chain into the river.

The following Sunday he was greatly blessed with the baptism in the Holy Spirit. A few days later he went to a Youth camp where he met a Christian girl who eventually became his wife. He is a pastor now.

The Pregnant Nurse

Among our guests were two Australian nurses who enjoyed a few days with us. They were touring around New Zealand.

The evening before leaving us, one of the nurses came into the room where I was making bookmarks.

She was interested in what I was doing and admitted she had no faith. During the conversation she told me, "Before my sisters and I left home our mother said to us, 'Don't any of you dare come home to me if you become pregnant!'"

There was silence for a moment and then she quietly added, "I'm pregnant."

"Whatever you do, don't have an abortion!" I pleaded. "Please let me read a few verses from the Bible to show you how much God loves the baby in the womb. His love for you is great, too!"

She allowed me to pray for her, and she wrote her name and address in the visitors' book.

I wrote to her, giving her chapter and verses from the Bible which could convince her of God's love and care for her and the baby.

Five years went by without a word from this attractive young nurse.

Then a letter came letting us know she had read my letter, had kept the baby, a healthy boy, and that she had become a Christian.

Towed Home To Clarke Road

We'd had an enjoyable visit to David and Penelope's home in Whangarei, waved goodbye and set off in our car to return to Kerikeri. We had moved from Kaeo to be close to the Christian school where we were both now teaching.

All went well for a few miles. Then the car lights grew dim. Evan stopped the car now and then to let the lights build up again. It took us a long time to travel home.

By the time we entered Kerikeri shopping centre, the lights failed completely, so Evan parked the car in the light of the shops. A security officer saw us, parked in front of us and strolled over to us. Evan wound down his window. "You OK in there?" the officer enquired.

Evan smiled at him. "The lights have been growing dimmer and have cut right out now."

"How far do you have to travel?"

"We're almost home," replied Evan. "We turn left into Clarke Road."

"I'll give you a tow," the officer said, and went to his vehicle in which sat two Alsatian dogs. He grabbed a dog's leash, tied it onto his tow bar then attached the other end to something on the front of our car, and gave us a wave.

Soon we were on our way. It then occurred to Evan that we were going to turn left and the steering was locked because he had turned the ignition off. There were a few moments of panic until Evan managed to get the key in and turn the ignition on just before the officer turned left, and stopped right in front of our home.

I Needed One Bee

One hot summer's evening I sat at my desk trying to draw a bee. Earlier in the day, every time I tried to copy a bee on a flower, it would fly away. Exasperated, I wondered how I was ever going to draw a bee accurately. I felt certain God had put it in my mind to add a bee among the flowers I drew on bookmarks for overseas missions. So this hot evening, at my desk, I tried to draw a bee, but without success. A blowfly buzzed annoyingly around my head.

The reading lamp on my desk was making me uncomfortably hot, and I was about to switch it off when a bee landed on the desk. It seemed tired and rested there, so still, that I was able to copy it. It was only then I realized that the annoying blowfly was, in fact, a God-sent bee.

The New Neighbour

When the unit next to us was vacated, we prayed that the new occupants would either be believers, or become believers.

A few days later, a removal van arrived, followed by a car driven by an elderly woman. A Filipino woman and her husband began to unload the furniture. I went next door to say hello and invited our new neighbour and the carriers over to have morning tea.

As we sat at our table drinking tea, the Filipino woman looked around the room, and smiling, asked if I was one of those "happy clappy" Christians. I replied that I was and glanced at Elsie, our new neighbour. She was looking at me with such lifeless eyes, but I heard God tell me, "She will become your sister."

About half an hour after the carriers left, there was a loud banging on our back door. To my surprise, there was Elsie looking very angry. Blood oozed from a fresh wound on her leg. "They've left," she complained, "without putting everything in its place!"

I tried to explain that carriers did not have to do anything other than deliver the contents indoors, but Elsie was adamant there had been a signed agreement to put everything in its place. She had hurt her leg trying to shift a chair, and was quivering with rage. I put my arm around her. "Elsie, being angry only hurts you. Please come inside for a while and rest while I make you a cup of tea."

Over the next few months, Elsie and I shared many a friendly chat. To begin with, she was most contrary. If I asked her how she was, she would reply, "Very ill, thank you."

Often during a discussion I would refer to what the Bible said on the matter. Despite her antagonism, God gave me such a love for her, which she must have sensed, because she started to share about her childhood days. She told me how she'd been deprived of her parents' love, and had been cared for by her older sister. On Sundays, she would go to Sunday School and on her way home she used to hold her teacher's hand.

On one such day, her teacher was talking to a friend on the other side of Elsie, and without realising it, let go of Elsie's hand. At that moment, Elsie vowed that she would never love again, and she never had! She married, but had no children. She nursed all her life and was a hospital matron when she retired.

As time went on, both Evan and I knew she had grown fond of us. We knew by then that she believed in reincarnation. I had previously shared with her Hebrews 9:27 – "It is appointed for men to die once, and after this comes judgement."

Then one morning as I hung out the washing on the line, I heard God say to me, "Take your Bible to Elsie's and explain to her why the Bible is My true word."

I must admit I felt terribly nervous as I knocked on Elsie's door.

She opened the door and invited me in. I took a deep breath and said, "Elsie, I often say to you, 'The Bible says...' Could I please tell you why I believe it is the true word of God?"

She gave me permission and invited me to sit down on a comfortable chair opposite her. Then amazing things happened! Every reason I gave her, she would say, "I'll go along with that." Encouraged, I shared with her God's plan of salvation from the Bible. I told her that the sacrificial lamb God promised is Jesus – Jesus, who died on a cross and shed his blood to pay for our sins, and to give eternal life to all who would believe in him as their Saviour. Jesus, who came as the image of the invisible God so we would know exactly what God is like.

"I'll go along with that," Elsie said once more. When I suggested that she might like to ask Jesus into her life, she readily agreed. It was a wonderful moment when she confessed to Him that she had been a sinner, and that she was so grateful for the eternal life He promised.

Happy days followed. Elsie gave us her books on reincarnation to burn. She studied God's word, worshipped at a local church, and steadily changed into a smiling, caring person.

In time, she came to see the importance of baptism and asked Evan to baptize her, which we did – in her bath!

A Treasured Posy

It had been one of those hot days at school when children were listless and I doubted the wisdom of becoming a teacher.

As I walked slowly home feeling discouraged, I noticed the youngest pupils loitering ahead of me. I didn't feel in the mood to smile or listen to their chatter, so I slowed down even more.

The children waited for me! They were all smiling as Isobel held up some wildflowers they had gathered. "We picked these for you, Mrs Harris," she said shyly.

I admired the dandelions, daisies, and buttercups and genuinely smiled at the girls as I thanked them for the lovely gift.

"I will put these in a little glass of water as soon as I arrive home," I assured them.

The children went happily on their way home. I had a new spring in my step and a song in my heart. The children had no idea how depressed I had been, but I was certain that my Heavenly Father had given the girls the idea of giving me some flowers and I thanked Him for His gift of encouragement.

Never were flowers treasured more or cared for more lovingly!

The Dove

I was doing some last minute shopping one Christmas in Kerikeri when I noticed a white ceramic dove for sale in a shop. Doves and sparrows are my favourite birds, and as our home was called Shalom, I decided this dove, representing peace, would be an ideal ornament to have in our lounge.

As I walked over to examine the dove more closely, I wrestled with the thought that the ornament was too expensive to buy for myself.

I was still admiring the dove when I noticed the shop assistant heading my way. At that exact moment I heard God say to me, "Go home and open the parcel that you were given for Christmas."

As soon as I got home, I put away the Christmas shopping, and then eagerly picked up the parcel marked NOT TO BE OPENED UNTIL CHRISTMAS DAY.

I couldn't wait until then! Besides, I had been told to open it by a higher authority!

I was delighted but not surprised when I unwrapped a beautiful blue-eyed dove. Her head tilted slightly to one side, making her so unique.

My friend Margaret had made it for me and underneath the dove she had carved her name and added, "With all my love in Jesus' name."

Margaret was leaving soon for America, so the next day I visited her and explained why I had opened her parcel before Christmas. Excitedly I pointed out to her that Jesus knew she had made the dove.

With tears of joy in her eyes she smiled and said, "I know. It was he who inspired me to create it!"

A Macrame Hanger

When we shifted from our large Kaeo home, we had to give away a lot of our pot plants. So when a cheque arrived in the mail instructing me to buy something for myself and not spend it on postage for letters to missionaries, the idea came to buy a macramé pot holder for a plant. There was a large hook screwed into a beam on the ceiling, which previous tenants had left behind. As I stood at the sink drying the lunch dishes, I decided I'd go to a craft shop and buy one. Then I heard the Lord say, "Wait."

About a week later, Evan and I went with our pastor to pray for a sick man. His wife invited us to stay for supper. During this time, their son and his wife arrived. Their son showed his parents the macramé hanger that he'd just made for his wife. It was identical to the one I had envisioned hanging on my hook with a beautiful pot plant in it!

After we had all admired his skill, I asked the young man if he would make one for me. I told him how much I could pay for it. When I mentioned the price, his wife grabbed his arm and said, "Oh Marcus, that's the exact amount we've been praying for to pay the Bible Study course fee!"

Appointment With Frankie

On one of my housework and shopping days, I had a very clear picture of Frankie, a woman I knew slightly, standing at the entrance of the local supermarket. I couldn't imagine what I was to do, except that it was to be a divine appointment that God wanted me to keep at 9:30 am that day.

I set out with my grocery list, arriving at the time shown to me, and there was Frankie walking towards the entrance. She saw me, tugged at my sleeve, and led me to a quiet place in the supermarket. "Leone," she said, "can you please tell me quickly what you can about the after life? I have cancer and I'm scared! The doctor says I haven't got long to live."

Just the day before, I had been given a book by Betty Maltz telling about her after-death experience. This was still very clear in my mind, and I shared it with Frankie. Betty had been pronounced clinically dead, but she felt so alive and joyful as she walked up a green hill to a gate of pearl. She recognised the precious stones that decorated the wall, as she had worked in a jeweller's shop. The angel who accompanied her touched the pearl, and Betty could then see through it to a street of gold inside the city.

She could hear people singing, and she was looking forward to the glorious gate opening, but instead, the angel told her it was not yet her time to enter. Betty was escorted back down the hill, totally healed physically, and given a new love for people. After her return to life, she shared her experiences to crowded audiences, assuring them that heaven is real. She told people that if they accept Jesus and obey His word, they have nothing to fear. Rather, they can look forward with great joy to their heavenly home.

Frankie's doubts and fears vanished, and during her remaining months, she was a joy to all her friends.

The Widow's Birthday

One day when I had a day off teaching to do the housework and the shopping, I received a thought that I should phone the secretary of the school and invite her to lunch. I kept on vacuuming the lounge carpet, dismissing the idea as silly. Such a thought couldn't possibly have come from God because He knew that this was my one day off from school. However the idea persisted until I began to wonder if Patricia was in need of comfort or help, as she had come from England and was recently widowed. I decided to phone her.

Patricia sounded cheerful so I began to doubt if I had heard from God. However, when I invited her home to have coffee with me at lunchtime, she enthusiastically accepted.

I was about to continue the vacuuming, when I knew I was being asked to prepare a tray with my best china, make her a bookmark with an encouraging Scripture on it, and put the gift of a handkerchief on the tray.

When she arrived I was to give her a hug and take her into the sunny room to enjoy her coffee on her own and listen to some Christian music.

I did all this but explained why to Patricia before leaving her on her own. When it was time for her to return to school she came into the kitchen and I noticed her cheeks were wet.

"I know why you were given those instructions," she said. "Today is my birthday and nobody knew!"

The Tangled Skein

It was my turn to be on playground duty during lunchtime. A six-year-old girl came running over to me, and handed me a tangled skein of wool.

"Please teacher, fix this for me," she said and skipped away to join her friends. I doubted I could untangle the wool in so short a time, but I did! As the school bell rang for classes to resume, the girl returned for her wool and took it for granted that it would be untangled. She gave me a smile and casually thanked me as she hurried to her classroom.

As I turned to hurry to my class, I was given a lesson from God: "Problems come like tangled skeins. Remember to treat them as this little girl did. Give me the tangle and leave it with me knowing I can sort it out. While I am solving it for you, in faith continue with your programme and give me a smile when I have straightened the problem out for you."

I knew I had heard from God.

Plastic Bags On Her Feet

I was waiting at the Whangarei post office counter for the stamps I'd just ordered. Then I noticed a woman probably in her sixties at a counter nearby. She wore no shoes but had a plastic bag tied on each foot. As she looked my way, I quickly avoided eye contact. As much as I enjoy smiling at people in a friendly way, this woman's expression warned me that she'd more than likely swear at me if I smiled at her.

I handed over the money for the stamps, put them in my purse and hurried out. As I headed towards Cameron Street, I heard God speak. Go back and touch her. I kept on walking. Surely I must have imagined that. Go back and touch her. I heard it again quite clearly but I kept on walking away. For the third time the words began, Go back...

This time I was determined to obey. I quickly turned, hurrying now to make up for lost time. The lady was about to step onto the road to cross it when I reached her. Touching her gently on the shoulder I said, "Excuse me." As she turned I dreaded to hear her swear words. To my amazement and relief she looked at me and smiled! "May I help you?" I asked.

She wondered if I could direct her to a certain shop, which I then told her was diagonally over from where she stood. I offered to help her across the busy street, but she politely assured me she would be all right and thanked me.

Retracing my steps towards Cameron Street, I was feeling such a failure, having taken so long to obey my heavenly Father, and then saying nothing to the woman about His love. But then He spoke to me, I told you to TOUCH her.

What a lesson! He knew the woman's immediate need, and He had told me explicitly what to do, no more, no less.

The Tulip Tree

The 'Fire of Life' school of evangelism students had completed their course. Each graduate was being prayed for. Last in line stood a couple in their early thirties, and it was my turn to pray for them.

A thought persisted that I should tell them about a discovery I had recently made about the large tulip tree that was growing close by the church. It seemed a silly thing to mention at such a time as this. Convinced at last that this was a prompting from God, I obeyed.

"Have you noticed the large tulip tree growing outside this building?" I asked. "I read recently that the tree's flowers first appear in its fifteenth year. It reminded me of the verse in Ecclesiastes 3:11 - 'God has made everything beautiful in its time'."

The couple looked at each other, held hands and smiled as if sharing a precious secret. Turning to the congregation, the husband said, "Today is our fifteenth wedding anniversary.

We've been through some difficult wilderness years, but tonight the Lord has given us hope - the promise that our lives will blossom like the tulip tree in our fifteenth year."

His Eye Is On The Sparrow

During one of our visits to the Boom family in Hamilton, we went with them to a church where they had been invited to sing and share about the work of World Vision.

On this particular day, we were delighted to go with them to hear Chris and Rosie share, and of course we were looking forward to our grandchildren singing. Just before Rosie introduced their family and signalled for the children to join her on the dais, a kind elderly lady offered Emily, aged six, a 'gob stopper'. Emily politely accepted, and as she walked up to the dais, one cheek bulged. The family sang, "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches over me." With amazing dexterity, Emily controlled that huge lolly, juggling it around in her mouth, and singing the words loudly. Her parents were blissfully unaware of Emily's amusing performance, as the bulge shifted from one cheek to the other. We know that God watches over us, but for many in the congregation that morning, their eye was on Emily's bulging cheek.

The Tiny Shell

During a holiday by a beach, I sat one morning on a large rock while the tide was out. I hoped to draw a masterpiece of waves, but I couldn't capture them on paper. Disappointed, I collected my pencils to return to the cottage. It was then I noticed a tiny shell. I tried to pick it up to have a closer look, but it clung tenaciously to the rock. I had seen that rock at high tide when waves lashed over it, then swept back to the sea. The tiny shell had remained. I did not take a masterpiece home with me. Far more precious to me was the lesson I learned: No matter how fiercely the storms of life try to sweep me away, I will safely remain if I cling to the Rock, Christ Jesus.

The Seaweed

While on holiday, I passed a pile of seaweed washed up at high tide, stranded on the shore. It looked old and sun-dried. I kept on walking, but a thought persisted. Go back and take a closer look. I returned and was amazed to notice the seaweed formed a beautiful tracery like black lace. People can become like stranded seaweed, and how easy it is to thoughtlessly pass by, blind to their inner beauty and potential.

Dale's Birthday

Early one morning, after a time of Bible reading and prayer, I was about to leave the room and have breakfast when I heard my heavenly Father say, "Whatever you do for the least of these my brothers, you do it for me." I quickly jotted this down in red in my diary, wondering why this had been said. But I did not have long to wonder!

After breakfast I went to my lap-top to read any email that may have arrived. There was one from Dale which read:

Hi Evan and Leone. Today is my birthday (35). It was my grandfather's too, but he is in heaven now. Dale.

Dale is wheeled to church every Sunday morning, strapped well in, to keep his spastic body still. For thirty-five years everything has had to be done for him. His grandmother taught him to read but he finds it hard to speak. To send this email to us would have required such an effort. He wears a helmet with a stick attached with which he touches each letter on his computer. He is certainly not the least of Christ's brothers, but I realised it was a good verse to alert me.

I sent Dale birthday greetings from Evan and me and said we would call to see him on our way to the church office. We wrote on a birthday card, and took him some chocolate. When we arrived he was being fed some cake, then had a drink from a glass tube held by the bright young caregiver. Dale's lovely hazel eyes shone his delight that we had called. He made a sound as if he were thanking us.

When Evan and I arrived at the office, I went into the room where a friend was demonstrating how to make birthday cards. When the group knew it was Dale's birthday they were all delighted to make a special card for him. We all signed our names, then the afternoon prayer group signed theirs and the pastors signed theirs. Ian, who often calls to see Dale, took him the card. How amazing Jesus is! He knew it was Dale's birthday and He wanted to let Dale know that he is loved.

Life After Death

Early one morning, as I was beginning to waken, a face came close to mine. I had never seen anyone so radiantly beautiful or more alive!

Her skin was lovelier than any teenager's, and I thought this must be because she had not had to experience the weight of the world's sin. Her teeth as she smiled were flawlessly even and each strand of her light brown hair seemed to be almost electrically alive! But it was her shining blue eyes that captured my attention. Although no word was said, I knew by the joy and the love in her eyes that she was letting me know how gloriously alive she was.

When she vanished I was very much awake and wondering who this woman reminded me of. About an hour later we received a toll call from Auckland. A young man told Evan that his mother had just died and he felt she would have wanted us to know. Immediately I realised that it was Joan whom I had seen. I also knew why I had been privileged to see her so alive. The Lord wanted me to write to her husband and tell him how she looked, and convince him of life after death.

I had only met Joan three times. The first time had been many years before when we were introduced and had exchanged addresses. Over the years, she told me that every time I wrote to her she was greatly encouraged, for the letter always arrived when she was going through a hard time.

The second time, we visited her at her home and shared lunch together. The third time we visited her was in hospital soon after she had been operated on to remove cancer from her body. I hesitated to ask the nurse if we could visit her, but Joan told the nurse to let us in because I was "her dearest friend"!

Joan shared with us how deeply anxious she was for her husband to believe in Jesus. Remembering this, I wrote to Peter to let him know I had seen Joan looking so beautifully alive. I was told later by their daughter that he kept my letter on a wall to read it often. About a year later he became ill but before he died he became a Christian!

On Board A Keeler

A married couple in their fifties from America had been attending our meetings at church, and on their last day there before sailing away in their keeler, they invited Evan and me to look over their boat. We were both amazed at its size and impressed that they had every modern piece of equipment on board.

We sat in the main cabin listening to some of the experiences they'd had while sailing.

Tell him about Anne. The thought was clear, but I pushed it away. Why on earth would he be interested in Anne's experience? Eventually Evan stood to leave, and as the thought persisted, I knew I had to share an experience Anne had.

"I believe God wants me to share with you about Anne," I said, looking at the man. "She is a pastor's wife and loved her mother who was very ill in hospital. Anne travelled south to visit her there and had several very precious days with her. On this particular day as she hugged her mother, Anne was horrified when her mother began convulsing and died.

"After the funeral on the Sunday when Anne was home, her husband was dressed and ready to go to church and asked Anne to hurry. She said she was not going, slammed the bedroom door shut, and flung herself across her bed. She sobbed as she cried out to God, asking Him how He could have allowed her beautiful Christian mother to die like that.

When she finally quietened down, she heard God call her by name. 'Anne, remember when you were holding your mother in your arms and looking into her eyes and saw the joy there? I took her home then.'"

The owner of the keeler had been most attentive as I shared this story, and as I finished his eyes filled with tears. He was so grateful that I had obeyed the inner prompting to share about Anne.

He realised that God was telling him that his mother had also been taken home before she had convulsed. He had been angry with God for two years, but not any more.

Tomatoes On Toast

After an evening service, we were to have the guest speaker staying at our home for the night. Once we arrived home, I asked Kay what she would like for supper. She replied she would like some tomatoes on toast.

When it was bedtime, I asked her what she would like for breakfast. Straightaway she laughed and said, "This might sound strange to you, but I would really love some more tomatoes on toast!"

It was such a delight to confirm to Kay how much the Father loved and cared for her. I explained that during the Sunday service I had sat beside my friend, May, whose husband grew tasty acid-free tomatoes. She had a brown paper bag at her feet and she told me the tomatoes were for us.

Little did I realize then as I thanked May, that Kay would ask for tomatoes on toast. But our Heavenly Father knew she would ask for them, and that we had none in the house at the time. In His love He had provided them for us.

The Enhanced Feathers

One day, after the rain had ceased, the sun shone on raindrops that quivered on the leaves of trees transforming them into emeralds, rubies, sapphires and diamonds.

A blackbird with wings outstretched as he left a branch, became a golden feathered wonder.

Later on, a wood pigeon flew above a salmon coloured cloud, which turned its breast from white to salmon pink.

The Magpie

Our son, Peter, stood near me as I hung out the washing. We heard the flutter of strong wings, as the pet magpie from next door arrived.

She landed close to my feet, then lay down with her head on my shoes. I could see her lovely amber eyes as she looked up at me.

Peter stood still, enjoying this unusual visit.

When the bird walked over to his feet and rested her head on Peter's feet, he bent down to stroke the magpie's pretty feathers.

What a surprise Peter and I had when the magpie rolled onto her back and stretched her legs up in the air like an act of surrender.

Hebrew Song

One morning soon after breakfast the phone rang. I answered, and a friend told me that she was doing their dishes when she heard God tell her to phone me and sing me a song in Hebrew.

As she sang, such a feeling of peace seemed to wash over me, even though I could not understand the words. Then she sang it in English, not realising until I told her that this was a message I had already received several years before. What a joy to have it confirmed.

"Praise the Lord! Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, who finds great delight in his commands. His children will be mighty in the land; the generation of the upright will be blessed."

- Psalm 112: 1, 2

This Land Is Mine

I sat on the trunk of a fallen tree on a ten-acre section. Our daughter Rose and her husband Chris, were walking down to the river showing Evan the land they were hoping to buy. I was quietly praying they would make the right decision. Very clearly I heard God say, "This is my land. I will bless them and grant them favour." He also gave me a Psalm to look up when we returned home. In it was a verse that read, 'There is a river.' I shared this with the family and never doubted it even when it looked as if the land would not be theirs. What a wonderful day it was when they signed the agreement and took over the land!

Holding My Hand

Our first born child, John, had travelled up from Auckland to visit us. I was recovering from a sickness. John came to my bedside, sat down and held my hand in his large but gentle one. He didn't realise I saw him then, as he had been as a little boy. I was holding one of his chubby hands in mine.

Answered Prayer

Our daughter Penelope was in hospital recovering from an accident. She was still in pain with multiple fractures in her leg. She told me she hoped nobody else in the family would have an accident. I could hear those words a week or so later when I tripped over the hearth in our home. I tried hard to prevent myself from falling as I staggered across the room. Eventually I fell. I had a burning pain in my right shoulder and arm and could not stand or even crawl to the phone. Evan had gone for walk up the farm hill. He had his cell phone with him. I cried out loudly, "Please God, help me!" Within two minutes I could hear visitors knocking on our back door. They couldn't hear me calling; but one of them opened the door and coo-eed. Then they heard me calling out to them. It was some relatives who had been driving past our house to visit Rose, but decided to pop in and visit us first. They gently lifted me into an armchair, made a cup of tea and gave me some pain relief. After praying for me, they phoned Evan. I felt so loved and cared for.

The Song

Our daughter Penelope, and our grand-daughter Grace, entered our lounge where Evan and I were sitting in our cosy armchairs. They asked us if they could rehearse a duet they would be playing in Auckland that weekend. Penelope played her guitar and began to sing a song she had just recently written. We listened to the tender love story of a lady in a castle soon to be married to a wealthy man. She would be given all the jewels she desired; but her heart felt no love for him. A minstrel came and played beautiful melodies on his harp. He had sapphire blue eyes, ruby red lips and a voice of gold. And as he played he won her heart. Grace began to add soul-stirring notes on her violin. Notes that blended with the guitar and her mother's voice. Both Evan's eyes and mine were filled with tears, and I stifled the sobs. It was so beautiful. Imagine what the music in heaven will be like!

Soli Deo Gloria

Our daughter, Rose, was to give the morning message at our church. She had often spoken at a church in Hamilton but this was to be her first time here in Whangarei. Although my injured shoulder and arm were still too painful to have friends give me a hug, I wanted to be there to hear Rose. Evan arranged for us to have two chairs placed right at the back against a wall. From there we could see all the people seated and had a clear view of the stage. Eventually Rose was introduced as the speaker. There was immediate applause as they welcomed her. It was a very stirring moment for Evan and me. We listened to her message with full hearts, then as she sang her song 'Soli deo Gloria' (for the glory of God alone) we quietly left to avoid hugs, and blinked back our tears of joy.

Bumblebee's Refuge

Early one morning, while the dew glistened on the grass, I noticed a bumblebee asleep among the sheltering petals of a pink dahlia. As I stooped down to admire its furry little body, I remembered reading how bumblebees have been known to fly far from their nests in search of pollen and nectar. Sometimes they flew so far away they could not reach home by nightfall, so they'd find a hiding place to rest in until morning.

I took a careful look at the bumblebee still sleeping on the flower and sure enough, there was pollen caught in the hairs of its back legs.

I never cease to marvel how amazingly creative God is! Our creator God says to me, "Come to Me, when you are tired and heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

When I come and ask for nothing, but declare to Him my love, this is truly something which delights God's heart.

The Fantail

You're a lively little fantail

With such acrobatic skill.

Cavorting, flipping, darting,

Not one moment keeping still.

As you catch insects on the wing

You've ample space around

To fly so cheerily

Through all the seasons of your life

As you tweet so merrily.

In my God-given space here

I rejoice in sheer delight

Content in standing still

To watch the fantail's flight

Often the little bird darts near

To catch an insect on the wing

So close he comes, but shows no fear

He twitters and I quietly sing.

A Mynah In The Persimmon Tree

When we first moved into our cosy cottage, I told Evan I would like to have a persimmon tree planted in our front lawn. "The leaves turn beautiful reds in autumn, and the fruit is non-acid," I reasoned. We finished our lunch and were just clearing the table when the phone rang. A neighbour asked Evan if we would like a persimmon tree as he had one to spare!

Within an hour the tree was planted exactly where I had wanted it. I considered it a gift from God. The tree grew steadily and we enjoyed the beauty of its leaves when they turned a fiery red. One morning when the tree was in fruit, it attracted a mynah. As the bird landed on a persimmon, I was about to send him away when a thought was clear in my mind, Share what I give you. I stood still on the veranda to watch as the mynah pierced a persimmon and enjoyed some of its flesh. A sparrow stood still on the lawn and watched as well. When the mynah flew up into the liquid amber tree nearby, the sparrow landed on the persimmon where the mynah had pierced the fruit, had his fill, and then flew away. Only then did the mynah return for a second helping of persimmon. The birds and I had shared what our Creator provided!

A Thrush In The Bird Bath

Our children gave us a bird-bath which stands in full view from our kitchen window. We had to wait for well over a year before any birds decided it was safe to bath in. Now it is enjoyed every day, mainly by blackbirds and thrushes.

One morning we saw a shining cuckoo bathing there. We recognized him by his iridescent feathers shining in the sunlight. Often fantails have a quick dart in and out, and then flit to a close-by kowhai branch to twitter and dance, before having another quick flutter in the bath.

I was looking through the window recently watching a thrush enjoy a leisurely bath, when a sparrow flew down and perched on the rim. He sat there watching the thrush for quite a while, then jumped into the bath and copied his actions! Never before had I seen a sparrow bathing in water. They prefer dust baths! The amazing thing was the thrush seemed to be happy, sitting on the edge watching the sparrow. Then it got in for a second bath while the little sparrow was still enjoying his first bath!

Arum Lillies

Every year in July, I delight to walk around our garden and stroll over to one place where I look over into our daughter's garden, and smile.

In all the eighteen years we have lived here, I have never been disappointed - the arum lilies come into flower.

Each year on our wedding anniversary, I stand there enjoying the solitude, and recall the day I was dressed in a long white velvet wedding gown. I wore a white velvet turban, quite like the shape of an arum lily, and in my white gloved hands, I held a sheaf of arum lilies.

As I recall that day, I thank God for my pilot husband who returned safely from the war, and for our years together.

Wet Autumn Leaves

After leaving mail in the letterbox to be collected by the postie, I gathered up some autumn leaves. During the wet and windy night, they had fallen from the trees and covered the drive, looking beautiful in fiery reds, oranges and yellows. I took the shiny wet leaves inside and decorated the table with them. While we enjoyed breakfast, Evan and I praised God for creating trees. However all too soon the leaves dried, crackly and curled. But although their beauty was short-lived, the joy of collecting them lingered on.

Beautiful Seagulls

I stood on Orewa beach

Admiring seagulls'

Pearly grey wings,

With three black dots,

A pure white body and head,

Red legs and webbed feet.

The seagulls waited while people

Returned to their cars,

Then they quickly devoured scraps of food

Left on the sand.

I watched the selfish scavengers

With such beautiful plumage

As they squabbled and fought over the scraps.

Right there on the beach I prayed

As King David had so long ago:

"Create in me a pure heart, oh God."

Diligent Bumble Bees

Early in the morning

Dew moist on the ground,

Bumble bees diligently delve

With long hollow tongue

For nectar from flowers

And fly off with pollen as well.

Back home, each brings up from its body

The nectar now transformed into honey,

And stores it in pots for its young.

The pollen clinging to its hairy body

Is swept into storage cells too.

Creator God, what a lesson for me

Seeing the bumble bees' self-discipline.

May I too rise early to delve

Into Your word

Gathering truth and wisdom

To live by and to share.

Elusive Fragrance

I walked to the mailbox to collect the mail. Before I had put my hand on the gate, an elusive fragrance seemed to transport me away to somewhere alive with exquisite joy! As in a dream, I opened the gate, walked to the mailbox and gathered my letters. Then I wandered tranquilly back to where the scent still lingered. A gentle breeze had carried the fragrance of wine magnolia blossoms from a tree nearby! The realization did not rob me of the bliss I had received and retained. I recognized it as a God-given reminder of His love for me - a touch to remind me how God loves to give us delightful surprises.

One Grain Of Sand

As I strolled along the smooth sand of Orewa beach, I remembered an evening years ago when I sat for a long time wondering what I could write to a Refusenik who had been banished to Siberia on his wedding day. The young couple had applied for a permit to leave Russia to settle in Israel. Those in charge said there was room for one on board a ship leaving the day of their wedding. They assured the young man he would be given a permit to leave on the next ship.

The couple were married at a registrar's office before the bridegroom took his bride to the ship and kissed her goodbye. The bridegroom was then banished to Siberia where he laboured and languished for ten years. At the time I received his name and address from Amnesty International, they knew he was ill and depressed. What could I write to comfort and encourage him?

It was then a picture came to my mind of a hand holding one grain of sand, and with it a message I knew was from God. The one grain represented life on planet earth, while all the grains of sand in the entire universe represented eternity. How we loved, forgave, and lived according to the light available to us in this life, determines where we spend eternity- with God in His kingdom, or banished from His presence. So I wrote this and posted it to him in Siberia.

Not long afterwards we read of this man's release and his arrival in Israel, where his faithful bride embraced him. His health improved through excellent medical attention, and with the joy of being in Israel.

Mock Cherry Tree

While I was slowly recovering from a burn-out, the sight of a slender tree trunk shining white in the sun caught my attention. As I rested in an armchair, I had plenty of time to consider it. How dead it looked when the sun no longer shone on it. I felt lifeless, but hoped the light of God's presence was shining on me to revive me. Each day I looked out at the bare tree and longed to see a sign of life. One morning I noticed small buds had appeared. The sap of spring had risen to give the tree newness of life.

Soon it was covered in pink blossoms. No cherries appeared but the flowers were laden with nectar, which attracted tuis. Their melodious bell-like notes rang out in the garden, and fresh hope filled my heart. I knew I was recovering. Without knowing it, the tree had given me promise of recovery, and I knew I had received another lesson from my caring Father.

A White Iris Lily

In our Shalom cottage garden I planted the bulb of a white iris lily which had once grown in my mother's garden. Eventually the bulb sprouted, and there came an evening when I knew I'd see the iris the next day. However during that night there was heavy rain, thunder and lightning. I lay awake, dreading the sight of a storm-battered iris in the morning. The storm finally abated, and I slept until daylight. When I woke, my first thought was of the iris. I hurried to see it. Its bud had unfurled pure white petals, unscathed by the storm in the night! May I always rely on God's divine protection during storms in my life.

Tui In The Kowhai Tree.

There's a tui in the kowhai tree

Singing notes of sheer delight.

His iridescent feathers shine brilliantly

At his throat a tuft of white.

Acrobatically from a pendant flower

He drinks kowhai nectar free,

Restoring to his wings the power

To fly on easily.

Even so I seek sustenance

From the nectar of God's word.

Wood Pigeon

While resting in an armchair, longing to recover quickly from my burn-out, I heard something hit hard against the sitting room window. I got up and hurried out to see what it was. A large wood pigeon lay concussed on the veranda. I watched it for several hours. It lay there so still, recuperating. Our granddaughter, Grace, who loves birds as much as I do, called in. We wondered what we should do as the bird lay so still and evening was coming.We decided to phone the caretaker at the bird sanctuary close by. He told us to put the pigeon in a box and take him to the sanctuary. We found a carton, and Grace offered to put the pigeon in it. She walked very slowly and quietly towards it while I watched through the window. The pigeon saw her coming, suddenly stood up, flapped his strong wings, glided over the veranda, and flew off towards the tall taraire trees. It was a wonderful moment! What a valuable lesson about convalescing! It takes time and patience to recover.

The Oak Tree

Evan and I have just come home from Dilworth School's centennial celebration. Evan taught there from 1953 to 1963. We first arrived there when our son John was nine years of age. Peter, our second son, was born the following year, and our twin daughters, Penelope and Rosemary, two years later. What has all that to do with the oak tree? Well, it used to provide shade for our family and our dachshund, Hamish, when they played on the lawn near our Dilworth schoolhouse. Our home is no longer there, but as we stood under that oak tree we both had nostalgic thoughts of happy days when we were all together there. So I picked up four acorns from the ground near the trunk of the tree to take back to Whangarei. I am sure each one of our children will delight to plant them, and slowly they will grow tall and strong to provide shade for future generations.

As Evan and I drove home that evening, I reminisced about all the wonderful diamond moments that have been showered throughout my life. And in my heart I rejoiced with the anticipation of many more.

PHOTOS OF LEONE AND FAMILY

Leone with her parents, Nelson, 1928

Leone and Jackie with their Sydney Silky 'Jill'

Leone aged five

Jackie and Leone with their mother

Leone aged five

Alan, Leone and Ethell Roiall

Leone aged eighteen

Leone in Christchurch, 1942

Evan returning from a training flight

Evan and Leone on their wedding day, 17th July, 1943

Poppondetta, Papua, 1965

Beryl's wedding day

John, Leone, Penelope, Evan, Rosemary, Peter and their golden labrador 'Lassie', at Dilworth school flat, Auckland, 1961

Lunchtime at Felicity House, Kaeo

Shalom Cottage, Whangarei, 1991

The whole family together

Evan and Leone, 2003

MORE

Thank you for buying this ebook! Don't forget to go back to the ebook retailer site where you bought it, and give it the stars you feel it deserves, or even a review, and help spread the inspiration!

For more about Leone and her ministry, free bookmarks in colour, and to comment or share your own 'diamond moments' stories, go to:

http://www.diamondmoments.org

For Leone's daughter Rosie Boom's website, with lots about the homeschooled Boom Family and the popular Barn Chronicles, the Gift of Values series, and much more, go to:

http://www.rosieboom.com/

If you have a book you want uploaded as an ebook, Leone's son Peter did this one and this is his website, where you can learn all about the process and get under way:

http://www.ebookuploader.com

Shalom!

