random thoughts. Terry Parris
Their gentle voices calling
I woke in the night with the words of the Negro Spiritual ringing in my ears:
“I'm coming, I'm coming
Though my head is bending low
I hear their gentle voices calling
Poor Old Joe”
It took me a moment to realise I was in bed in the Sant Jaume hospital in Manlleu. What a relief to remember that slavery was abolished 150 years ago. I'd been in hospital for a week and before that in the Vic Hospital General. The ulcers on my legs were infected and I had just done a week of antibiotics. Both hospitals couldn't have been more excellent and super-efficient, and in the convalescent atmosphere of the Manlleu hospital, friendly and caring.
So why the Negro Spiritual? What a wealth of sadness in the song! Then the thought came: all the “por old Joes” with their deep faith in Heaven as a wonderous goal to be reached. Wasn't this the same deep faith of all the refugees seeing the West as their goal? They are fleeing horrendous wars or the barbarities of Islamic State or simply, like all of us, looking for an education, peace, food and a safe place to live. Heaven on earth. No wonder people risk the perilous journey. What are we doing about it? In this New Year, is their faith justified? I can't even read the words of the song without my eyes filling with tears.