Marion Syms

An Old Acquaintance

Daddy before leaving for the UK requested that Vincie help him find the whereabouts of a lecturer who taught in the University of Portsmouth during his time; Marion Syms.


Dear Vincie did us the favour and went on a nation wide search for her and it therefore brought us to a picturesque sweet county; Emsworth.


Emsworth is a sleepy little place nestled in the natural beauty of God and this old oak tree is but a symbol of poise and sturdiness. "Oh tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree, it's been..." To see a real oak tree means all the story books I read about them coming true.


Marion in her 70s is still active, very warm and spontaneous. She left her position some years ago and is now actively involved in a counselling ministry in the local church. Her wisdom is clearly deciphered through her soft and gentle demeanor and the moment she saw the girls she looked at dad and laughed. " You mean these are your girls?"; after all those years.
Next she sat down beside them and like a typical teacher, asked questions from age to studies and vocations. She was delighted at God's goodness to the family.



As we entered her door she showed us a painting on the wall; similar to the theme above. I regretted not taking a shot. It was a painting done by dad as a gift to her. She has been keeping it since then. Oh, why did not I take a shot ?


This is a typical painting now hung in the house. Dad's hobby is to paint during his free time and many good friends and pastors had received paintings from him.



So you should guess by now who has inherited this gift among the girls. Yes, it's the architect of the house; Esther. Yesterday she attended an Art class and came home with the piece. She says she has yet to give some final touches but alas she leaves me again tomorrow... Children do inherit latent skills from parents but perhaps the greatest yearning of all parents is that they develop into wholesome beings approved by God.


I admire Marion for her energy, imagination and willing spirit to entertain. "How shall I entertain the girls?" She quickly took out a croquet set and started to teach them the game. Teaching never leaves her, does it ?



She showed them how to hold the 'hammer' and gave little knocks to the ball...who will finish the game first?


So it became a frantic game. Needless to say, the man of the house did it followed by Grace, Esther and Sara; all in good order.



At the end of the game, the girls said "Look mama..." Girls they may be but fight they do and you will be surprised that the youngest is not the least vocal. It goes by the profession.


Don't you think they are adorable? While I was shivering and covering myself in a cardigan, these babies were enjoying the summer breeze. Perhaps one need to be trained to stand the cold? I definitely need it.



The energetic Marion then took us for a stroll behind her abode to a beach fronting the sea. On the way there, we saw yachts and boats parked behind a gate. The existence of the boats is a fore tale of what we were going to see.


A typical evening where families and people walk their dogs along the beach filled with bright, hard flint stones; dad told us.




Flint is bright and shiny and they have very hard features appropriate for building purposes.

Esther was all excited as she shot the scenery along the mud-filled beach. Beautiful, isn't it?

It is so natural; so real.

The floral is so spontaneous and bewitching too.

All thanks to the right camera, Esther.

We took some last shots before having tea with dear Marion and had real fellowship.
This is another of dad's desire ; to meet Marion. Another close mentor and a mutual friend, Gwen, who was especially close to dad passed away a couple of years ago. Dad actually regretted not meeting her earlier. So he took pains to visit old friends whom he met in the 70s.

Emsworth and Marion; we will remember.

Portsmouth

1974.

It was a year for a decision to be made by dad.
After a preparatory year in Taylor's College along Jalan Pantai, dad aspired to begin his tertiary education in Australia. It is true that what man plans may not be God's plans. Dad did not get what he wanted but he was given something else by the good Lord.
He was asked to go to Portsmouth.
So he packed his bags and left home on his own. Back then parents don't travel here and there with their children. More often then not, it was a one -way ticket kind of arrangement. A ticket was bought for the journey to the designated place . The journey home was most probably foot by the wages earned through part time vocations by the child. Nowadays parents work harder and allow them to come home every vacation. The children don't stay behind to earn extras for themselves. Have we pampered them and in the process take away values learnt through hardship? Determination, perseverance and diligence can only be gained through difficulties in life. But they despise this whenever I try to explain. We must not compare; they say. Let's say they are more fortunate and at the same time we pray they will rise up to the occasion when duty calls.




So dad reiterated that the good old railway station still stays the same. It was at this very point that he was picked up by some friends and soon after that he found his first accommodation at a B and B before he found a more permanent place of rest.


The University of Portsmouth is spread throughout the town and different faculties stood at different locations. Dad was in the engineering department and he pointed here and there in excitement as he recalled the days of old.





Inadvertently, he drove around the place he left some 37 years ago to look for the place he loved most; the Baptist Church. Right where the blue board is was the spot where he would put up notices and information Sunday after Sunday at the request of the pastor. He was quickly absorbed into the family of God and made himself useful; painting, drawing, holding meetings and worshiping. The church was a big part of his stay there and with a couple of friends started the first Chinese Christian Fellowship in the University of Portsmouth. So he looked at the premises with great fondness.




Then he bravely said he wanted to find the house which he and Vincie stayed and lo and behold; he found it after scouring the streets of Portsmouth.

But it has been turned into a B n B place now. It looked exactly like "Waverly" the B n B that we put up at Portsmouth. Sara lamented that she should have found this place for our stay there. Zeda, another housemate of dad's related that dad was enterprising and helpful from the onset. He helped Vincie and spouse renovate the place evening after evening by laying tiles on the floor, carpentry work and painting too. He is still doing these for others even till this day. People know he is able to help whenever needs arise. So you see, values are acquired from young.



We then of course went around the town and the children were peeping here and there for HnM, Zara, Topshop and all the coveted shopping spots while dad kept asking when will the shopping stop?


This is new to him. As you enter it, you will find all what shoppers pined and looked for...


I could not help but notice this group of children doing I believe a survey. They were conversant and brave and asked questions without fear from the public so long as their task was achieved. This I believe must be practised back home too. It prepares the children for more challenges especially having the guts to ask for opinions.






Except for the new places, other places still remain the same. The flowers never change.They are forever beautiful.

The old, rustic clock still stands sturdy and reliable. It chimed at 10am.

It was the clock on top of the Guildhall of Portsmouth.

Dad told Grace to observe the building. It has always been his desire to bring his children here to see his place of study and to tell stories of old. We seem so old fashioned telling stories here and there but how else for a good bonding?




Yea. The City Guild hall looks really steadfast and grand. It was here that dad graduated and became a civil engineer.




Dad said; "Come take a pic with me." He later told me that even his parents could not come for his convocation for it was expensive then. The exchange rate was as high as RM8 to a pound and to go there for the occasion would mean a big hole in the pocket. So we are thankful and grateful to God that He has made it possible for us to attend our girls' convocations each time.
Thank you dear God.



Dad took us to the port too and the girls had a wonderful time looking out into the open seas and enjoyed the breeze that blew strongly around them. It was a beautiful Summer time when the sun never seems to set and the sky is still bright at 9pm. You forget to sleep because the days are so long and and the nights so short.




Portsmouth is pretty and cosy. The city that ends into the seas indeed is a good place to raise families as it is quiet and safe. But most of all, it has a history connected to dad and he was indeed so very pleased to make the trip back there after more than 30 years.

Portsmouth; dad remembers well.

Oxford

The place is synonymous with the best, the elite and the smart.
The clever and intelligent come here to get smarter and be in demand.
Yes, I do notice many 'intelligent' looks as I strolled along the streets of Oxford.
I felt good here because I get to see the coveted place of my students and peers.
Now I know why so many long to be here.

The campus is spread out. You don't see the campus as a unified feature; having all units and facilities in an arranged one. Or have I been mistaken? Maybe I did not get to the precise spot.

Though hot, the winds are chilly and you don't sweat like the way back home so every walk is pleasant. So we sat and waited for the girls. They never seem to finish doing what they do best... shopping.

The streets of Oxford were filled with tourists; many from China. The Chinese seem to know what to strive for in life. So the tourist guides went..." Here, in the streets of Oxford you can see the University of..."

Sara ranted that it is her dream to do her Masters here... "Ma. I am not done with learning; I want to study some more..." How much and how long I wonder but ma is with you !

The building is solid; just like what it is supposed to be. A place where parents trust their children to be in; a place where parents covet. It promises steadfastness, trust, hope and reliability. Don't we teach these to students and children all the time? But somewhere along the journey some thwart away and do things not taught to them to the chagrin of their loved ones. How sad; all the teaching down the drain.

The steeple is tall and and eye catching. How nice to see it standing tall.

Clean and bright, it was a privilege to be here. At least when I speak to students about Oxford I can now visualize better and speak with conviction.

Doesn't this seem familiar ? Yes it is the real one; Oxford University Press. Oh I sound so flabbergasted. But I was excited. I have been there !

Grease is the Word... that brought back memories of the school too. Once in 2001 when Wei Pei and group danced to the tunes of the show and another only a couple of years ago when the choir put up a show. So much learning and teaching in creativity. Fun.

Dad even more excited than me wanted this most. But I was the wet blanket. No,no, no punting but yes, yes he said.

How can you come here and not punt? Only Esther was with him. Three against two. They lost and I won with the other two. On the hind side, I felt bad. It was rotten of me.

A photo with my girls whom I have taught values in life; trustworthiness, reliability and sincerity. I hope they live by these virtues and remember them just like any good institution would teach.

Grace as usual, the biggest joker and fun lover led her sisters in a time of joyous exploration here. They love to be here but get into squabbles not long after that; made up and then fight again so very often.

This is most symbolic. Learned. The figure speaks it all; literacy and the all.

Oxford, the coveted institution and where many found their dreams.
May many continue to find theirs there.