To-morrow (July 26th. 1936) is the 26th. anniversary of our wedding day & so I have decided, (being in a sentimental & reflective mood), to put down in this note book some of the details of the life of one of those ordinary people, of whom - wasn't it Lincoln? - thought the Lord must like as there were so many of them.

I was born on August 21st. 1880 in the little township of Aliwal North, South Africa, eighteen months or so after my mother & father had arrived there. The months before my birth had not been easy for my mother. In addition to the usual discomforts of her condition she had spent most of her time in the rooms of a Parsonage whose second storey was in process of removal & ground floor was being enlarged. My sister Kate aged eight years, & a small brother of two, were no light care; especially when bricks & masonary, falling in the adjacent hall, had their usual attraction for the youthful eye.

I was referred to by my mother, in letters to her sister in Adelaide, as "a pretty little thing with blue eyes & a merry smile". The palm for good looks was awarded to my sister, though, who after attending a children's dance, at the age of six, anxiously enquired from mother why an English army officer had called her "the belle of the party".

John Harrison, the middle child of the family, was a beautiful boy inheriting the sturdy physique of father & much of the good looks of both parents! His fine, eager eyes gazed with interest at the dream world of his much loved garden or flashed with ardour, as, perched on the garden gate he viewed passing troops, or leaping down he turned to play with the coloured servants whose unquestioning devotion failed to spoil so bright & lovable a child.

His gentleness was as much a part of him as his strength & vitality. "Mummy" he would call, "Baby is really pulling my hair very hard." "Pull her hands away, darling." "I'se fraid [sic] I'll hurt her, Mummy." Full of mischief & misdirected wishes to help Daddy, he would flood the little channels which irrigated the garden, hoe up the young mealies [maize] mistaking them for weeds, or wearing a serious air would preach on Sunday nights to his sisters & nurse, & provide his parents with a hundred reasons for anxiety, amusement, or adoring love in a day. Strange that so much vitality & so many endearing qualities should be quenched by a few hours illness. Before he reached his fifth birthday, this little world of his knew him no more. He had become, first a tragic loss, hardly to be mentioned; & later, as the fragrant scent of some never withering flower, removed to a still more wonderful garden than the well loved earthly one.

Our house, the Methodist Parsonage, after the repairs & alterations were completed, was a pleasant square house with wings added to it either side. It was surrounded by a large fruitful garden in which the church also stood. In her thirty years of married life mother looked back on it as the prettiest house & garden she had possesed. The word "possesed" must be used with strict reservations! No Methodist minister's wife "posseses" a house & its contents. She merely uses what has been provided by the taste - or otherwise - of other people. This may be a wise provision of Providence! (or of that August Assembly known as "The Conference", in Methodist circles) to keep her mind fixed on Eternal truths rather than material belongings!! Despite all this I have spent 55 happy years in "circuit houses" largely through having a useful knack of cultivating "a blind eye". Small wonder was it that the early Methodist ministry sang Wesley's hymn with such a keen sense of its applicability to themselves

The glad spirit was theirs without a doubt, & their modern descendants can join that "choir invisible" in that verse & this one, too "Blest with the scorn of finite good, My soul is lightened of its load, And seeks the things above." The Methodist minister & his wife will have lost much when they lose that sense of happy detachment from earthly goods & chattels. Despite this, one of the joys of retirement is to have ones ain [sic] fireside.

The climate of Aliwal North was good. Europeans, suffering from chest & lung complaints found healing here. The town was prettily situated, the Orange River ran near by & low hills made a pleasant hinterland.

The "Whites" were grouped together forming a small, exclusive township. A little distance away was a collection of mud huts & wooden dwellings known as the location, where the Black lived.

Each night our three coloured servants left the Parsonage usually laden with fruit & vegetables, the gifts of mother who was known amongst them by a title in their tongue meaning "The Lady Pudding Maker". Mother had earned this honourable title through her habit of giving pudding to her servants at their mid day meal.

Father ... [ends]