Okay guys, I’ve just set up a website as a tribute to the victims of the moors murders, and I really would be so greatful if you just checked it out and let me know what you think.
It also contains information about how to get involved and help the Keith Bennet Appeal. Please everyone this is really important to me. Thank-you very very much!
A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken.
~James Dent
Don’t you just love this quote? I do, and I am so excited that summer is arriving! There is something about it, something about sunshine that makes everybody feel better and cheerful. Here are a few of my favourite quotes about the wonderful season of summer:
Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.
~Rupert Brooke
Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability.
~Sam Keen
Celebrate Summer – Sun drenched days and starlit nights…
~Gooseberry Patch
In summer, the song sings itself.
~William Carlos Williams
I am sure you have all heard or know of the “Moors Murders”. If you haven’t, they were a series of murders that took place in Manchester in the early 1960s. These horrendous events lead to the deaths of 5 children aged 10-17. I am not going to mention the killers’ names, as they have already got enough attention over the years (and this blog is definatley not written for them, it is for their victims), nor will I go into detail about their shocking and nauseating crimes. Although I will absoloutley never forget the pain these beautiful children went through, I am not writing this blog in order to remember the ghastly murders, I am writing to remember and celebrate the children themselves and their lives.
Pauline Reade (18th February 1947 - 12th July 1963)
Pretty Pauline was a trusting and helpful young girl, she enjoyed dance and was of a polite and friendly nature.
John Kilbride (15th May 1951 – 23rd November 1963)
John was a happy, adventurous little boy. ( He was not really allowed at the market alone ). He was very fond of his grandmother and helped keep her garden tidy. John was loved by all in his family and was greatly missed by fellow pupils at St. Damien’s school.
Keith Bennet (12th June 1952 – 16th June 1964)
There was no harm to this little boy, he enjoyed life and was very interested in
nature. He used to pick up leaves and caterpillars and bring them home, and he collected coins.
Keith was a cheerful child, and, in a time when children’s experiences were confined to the
neighbourhood where they were born, he enjoyed street games, marbles and cycling.
He was a young boy with a ‘happy-go-lucky attitude and a cheeky grin’, who kept leaves in a
scrapbook, collected coins and loved football.
Lesley Ann Downey (21st August 1954 – 26th December 1964)
This beautiful angel was a happy and helpful little girl. (It was being obliging to her killers to help them when they ‘dropped’ some packages which led to her being abducted). She had been looking forward to spending
boxing day with her mother, learning to use the new sewing machine she had been given for Christmas
to make dolls’ clothes. Lesley was the only girl in her family.
Edward Evans ( 1948? – 6th October 1965)
I have searched but been unsuccessful in finding information about Edward Evans, I couldn’t even find out the date of his birth. But I imagine he was just as warm and friendly as his kind and trusting smile suggests in the photographs of him.
A message from me:
Keith’s body has not yet been found, his mother, Winnie Johnson continues to search
for Keith’s body on Saddleworth Moor, in the hope of giving him a Christian burial. For more information on how to get involved to help and support the search for Keith, visit http://keithbennett.moonfruit.com/. Please, there is still hope and everybody’s participation is much appreciated. Thank-you.
My personal memorial. ✝
Never forgotten. With much love
Clarice
“The truth hurts.” I have heard this quote many times before in my life, but have not fully understood it’s meaning until now, as I have lately discovered some ugly truths which I quite indubitably wish I hadn’t. One of the things I desire most is to always be an optomistic character, even during grim situations which may occur along the way in my life journey; and I know that I am generally a happy person, this is mainly because I take Monty Python’s advice and “always look on the bright side of life.” I am sure may others do this to as it helps a great deal in bothersome circumstances. But sometimes when you are given information you can’t always find the bright side, and at that moment it hits you and you realise just how much one little fact can affect you. And it hurts. It really does.
But no matter what they say; there is always hope. What I am trying to say is simply that the truth can really hurt, but it doesn’t have to hurt forever, it doesn’t have to leave a scar. And if you really want to forget and continue with life, you will be able to, just believe in yourself and all the good you can achieve.
Luke 10:19- Jesus says – Behold, I have given you authority to trample upon the serpents and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing in anyways shall hurt you!
Spring is here! The Easter season of promises, devotion, new life and a beautiful love that is eternal. I love the springtime, as the Earth slowly arises from her magical, frosty winter sleep, all of nature seems to come to life again. As Jesus did on the third day, I now understand how the events that took place on the last days of Jesus’ life and his ressurection; link with the changing of the seasons. I associate Good Friday with the deepest and darkest winter, where everything is wet and cold and lifeless, Easter Saturday with the early months of the year; where it is still icey and gloomy and I always seem to be longing for the light of spring to come and free me from this dark, unhappy time; And Easter Sunday, I see as the freshness and brightness of spring, the beginning of summer, where new life springs at every corner, the fresh, new warmth of the much-missed sun glows on my face and my heart is filled with bliss, faith and the amazing eternal love that God has granted unto me.
Here is a poem that I wrote a few years back about the joys of Spring;
Springtime sunshine, glowing on my face
Pretty roses waking up, standing tall with grace
Rabbits hopping round and round, coming out to play
In the farmyard, floppy lambs are being born today
Never was there a time such as grand as this
Great spring fun for everyone, filling our hearts with bliss
I absoloutly love historic buildings and castles, and although I have only visited it a few times in my childhood, I have many wonderful memories of Hever Castle (the childhood home of Anne Boleyn). What really moved me was the essence of happiness that I felt while walking around the Castle, and the gardens are jst wondrous. I have written this account from memory.
The afternoon sun is beaming down rays of warmth on my face. Ahead of me, all I can perceive with my eyes is nature, an endless path of neatly cut, bright green grass. I smile and behold this rare moment of complete perfection. I carefully look around, trying to take the whole scene in at once, I do not want to lose this moment, I want it to soak into my head, I want to absorb all the feelings, the sights, so I will have this memory forever.
Flowers of white, teal, purple and fairest pink come into view; I close my eyes and breathe in the clear, sweetly scented air. I make my way further down the pathway, the cool grass crunching beneath my feet, the atmosphere that surrounds me is so serene, the only sounds I can make out are the distant calls of birds and the sound of my own feet as I eagerly make my way down the path.
A refreshing summer breeze puffs over me, I notice it in the plants as the flower tops slowly start swaying together-as if they were dancing with the wind. The warmth and softness of the lazy summer breeze approaches me, I feel it brush against my cheeks as I continue to pace through the historical garden. As I am doing so, a butterfly crosses my path; it glides right in my line of sight, drawing my eyes from the view. I watch it as it darts here to there, from flower to flower, it’s black and blue patterned wings fluttering so gently in the air, it makes me smile. I don’t want to lose sight of it, so I find myself now following this little colourful creation. I follow it to a shady part of the gardens, where magnificent, ancient trees stand, covering the land in a beautiful shadow of leaves. As I walk under it, I feel the temperature change and a great chill touches my skin, it feels as if I am walking into a well air conditioned room after spending a while in the afternoon heat. I am careful not to take my eyes off the butterfly, as I remain enraptured in the grace of this small creature. I watch it for a moment, but instead of flying round in a winding, zigzag path in mid-air, it suddenly shoots up to the sky, freely gliding in-between the shaded leaves of the great tree, up to the clouds. I watch in despair as my beautiful butterfly leaves me.
I place my back up against the tree trunk and slowly slide down, the dry, aged bark roughly stroking my back. I look up to see the bright sunlight peering through the tops of the trees; I can’t help but smile at the beauty of it. I don’t get up; my walk is over, now I sit silently in the sunrays, until the evening comes, just sit in Hever garden, under that elderly tree and watch the golden summer hours pass.
This celebration of all things Irish inspires happy-go-lucky folks to join the festives and have a good time every year. Oh how I love St. Paddy’s day! As my family originates from the Emerald Isle, I am familiar to the celebration. The whole idea of an Irish day lifts my mood, the Irish have a somewhat magical charm about them, with their amazing dancers and music that you just loose yourself in; and lets not forget the famous Luck ‘o’ the Irish 
Yes, I am very proud to come from Ireland, the most magical, lucky, and of course, green, Isle in the world. I, for one had a lovely day, I wore green, listened and danced to the Irish jig and carried my little Irish dancing bear, Gabby around with me for most of the day. (Yes I have a teddy-bear. I utterly don’t really care if some would consider me “to old” to have one, she is my Irish teddy and I love her.)
So enjoy this St Paddy’s day…but remember…go easy on the guiness!
“There is nothing wrong with change if it is in the right direction.”
~Winston Churchill
I like this quote and I agree with it. Change is always commendable if it is for the greater good, whatever the change may be, it allows us to start a new and refresh our lives, follow a different path, takes us on new, exciting adventures and leads us one step closer to becoming a stronger, more progressing person.
Everyone has made little mistakes, but that is all part of life. How do you expect to learn from your mistakes if you continue to live in the darkness of regret? You must stand up, smile and confidently make your way towards the radience of willpower, hope and possibility.
A couple of days ago I watched a video about the life of Garvan Byrne in my R.E class, the video contained an interview with him and information about himself and his life. Well I must admit I was deeply and utterly moved. Not may things leave me speechless but this amazing little boy did. I was literally reduced to tears.
Garvan was born with a rare disease, from the age of five he was on steroids. He could not use his hands properly in the way that we do and he was quite small for his age. But as well as being amazinly well spoken and knowledgable for a boy of his age, and having fantastic art skills (even though his hands were not easy to use) Garvan had something that was way beyond his years, and that was his incredible faith in God. From a young age, Garvan knew that he was going to die soon and freely accepted that, knowing that he would be taken up to heaven when the time came. He died when he was 12 years old.
I think that Garvan Byrne was a witness to his faith. I think this because from what he said in an interview, when he was 11 years of age, he clearly understood what Jesus has done for him, both generally in saving the world from sin, but also what He had done for Garvan in his life-because he was very grateful for what he had rather than what he did not.
Also he was very educated about his faith and knew exactly what he believed in, and he spoke very openly about his beliefs to people. He had witnessed how God had blessed him with his talents and intrests such as art and maths and his wonderful sense of human, that was beyond his years.
This beautiful little boy has inspired me so much. I am so touched. Garvan, may you rest in the peace of heaven forever. You are with Jesus now, and will never know pain again, only happiness and joy…and the undying love of God.
If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. They’re memory lives on in you.
As you know history is a great passion of mine. So as you can imagine I find family history and discovering ancestors extreamly alluring. It is amazing to imagine them, all those years ago walking the Earth we live on today. I wonder what their lives were like. Who were they? What did the achieve? Where did they go? Did they have a similar personality to me? Did I inherit many features from them? All these questions filling my head with ideas and making me ever more curious about my ancestory.
Although we have never met them. We must never forget our ancestors. For they are the strong roots of our present family tree.
