I had the privilege of sharing Christmas lunch and now her funeral service at St Peter's Church on Willis, a suitable venue for one of the true chatacters of Wellington. I took J. as she wanted a lift so we arrived early to help with preparations. There was to be a potluck reception after the service at eleven a.m.
Jean in India with her ' children'
At 11 the church was packed to rhe rafters, although it was in the middle of the holiday season and many were away. Jean's connection with India was evident in the simple plywood casket with rope handles, totally unadorned but covered with many bright coloured orange and red flowers placed there earlier by her grandchildren.
This set the tone for the ceremony, which was, as Jean would have wanted, as little fuss and expense as possible. She was a believer in the hereafter, but not in the Christian sense, and the final Indian speaker gave a farewell song in a fitting karakia to a woman who had given her last twenty-eight years or so to the poor people of Southern India. Some of the speakers were very emotional, and spoke with aid of the ceremony facilitator, but most just told stories of a talented writer, an autodidact mostly, who had touched the hearts of all literate Kiwis with her first and highly acclaimed novel, semi-autobiographical, 'Stand in the rain' which was quite an achievement for a motherless waif brought up by a tough father in the outskirts of farflung Whangerei in the fifties.
After the ceremony we went downstairs and ate and drank and talked about Jean. My story of meeting her was rare, but typical of those touched by Jean's great humility and simplicity. Truly a great woman and a memorable personality. In India, she has the following of a enormous population who love her for her establishment of a trust for the education of young poorer Indians. She will never be forgotten, not here nor in that giant sub-continent.
The waif at twelve at Whangerei
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