Of voice, gifts and refugees

It’s Twelfth Night. Dismantle the tree and lights, throw out perfume boxes and cheap bling, and casserole the last turkey remnants. Let me share my “Aha!” illuminations of the past weeks. 

Let your light shine

An earlier post bewailed ever-tighter restrictions on “free speech” yet even I bowed to political correctness pressure. Some Christmas greetings wimped out with a vague “Whoever and however you celebrate” rather than wish happy Christmas.

“Aha!” I thought, I dodged my own issue and missed the boat of the true meaning. That the Christmas story goes on to tell of a Palestinian refugee family who fled from a despot dictator.

Soon after, The Australian newspaper reported that singing Christmas carols is now banned in Victorian public schools! Bah, humbug, to quote Ebenezer Scrooge, for singing and praise uplift the spirits!

“Aha!” at the carol service

Ever thought a casserole might be more practical for a poor, young family, not the Magi gold, frankincense and myrrh? Yet these gifts were God’s provision to afford their refugee flight to Egypt.The father, Joseph was warned by a dream that the despotic King Herod was so threatened by a baby Messiah, that he would massacre all young boys. Refugee Jesus Christ lived–to put the real meaning into Christ’s Mass. Then suffer and overcome a miscarriage of justice.

What propelled refugees’ flight?

Many struggle to comprehend, welcome and assimilate the mass of refugees who fled Syria and other regimes into Europe. What ordeals propelled them? A book has illumined this tough issue: the gripping yet lyrical I Confess – Revelations in Exile by Iranian doctor Kooshyar Karimi (Wild Dingo Press). Read my review of this eye and heart opener.

(And while on goodreads.com and Amazon do comment on any of my own books you’ve read. Or order them here.)

Another refugee story

My next book tells of another flight from oppression – a refugee from Russian occupied Finland, where a rigid regime’s Board of Censors suppressed newspapers and free association. Self-described “pen-fighter” Karl Johan Back, my great-uncle, fled in 1899 to asylum in Australia. Three years later his brother, my grandfather, followed to settle. He become the Migrant-Made-Good, developing much of the northern NSW, St Lucia in Brisbane, and western Queensland pastoral land.

Burn My Letters; Midnight Sun to Southern Cross is closer to publication, as I explore options. Email for info about release date and launch, to join my crowd funding caravan.

Writing Life Stories

See tips in my blog on this tricky process.

This year, may you shine in all your endeavours.
Rise and shine!” my mother chirruped to wake her eight children.
          It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness. (Proverb)

                                   Be that light.