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A selection of articles from our parish magazine
Issue No 105 Harvest 2022
Vicar’s Letter
Chewing over harvest memories
How Harvest has shaped my Life
An early recollection
Havest Poems
Obituaries
Bishop Lynnne
Thanks for what?
Retirement – what is that?
Wildlife’s Harvest
Asylum Voice
Vicar’s Letter
This year we will all have noticed the increase in our weekly food shopping. Those extra few pence all add up and, for those on low or fixed incomes, this means it is increasingly difficult to make
ends meet.
The war in Ukraine is not only having a devastating impact on the people of that country but, as one of the largest wheat producing areas, it is also affecting grain deliveries. This underlines, yet again, how dependent we all are on the global market for our daily needs. The heat wave in the summer will also have an impact in availability and prices.
So, this year’s Harvest is especially important as we give thanks for the produce of the land and those who produce it. We have become used to having all foods at any time of the year, and tend to overlook the seasonal nature of foods today. (Out of interest have a look at the label stating from where your fruit and vegetables have travelled, it is often quite surprising how far non-exotic items have come.)
Because we can have strawberries all year round –although frankly those grown under poly tunnels don’t have the flavour of local grown produce in their season of June and July – we expect that foods will be there at any time, and we lose the awareness of the seasonal nature of our food. Also being removed from the countryside means we don’t see the work involved in its production.
In recent years I have taken to growing my own tomatoes and some fruit not readily available in our supermarkets. Not only do they taste great, but I take pleasure in the fact they are home grown – no air miles or transport costs and, best of all, they are certainly low cost and, if I save the seeds, actually free!
Being in contact with the food we eat makes us think about the work needed to produce it and the complexities of our current food chain. Sustainability, animal welfare and the impact on the environment are key factors for both us and our planet. Harvest time, which we also celebrate in Church at the season of Creationtide, is a good opportunity to think about what we can all do.
When God created our world God also gave us responsibility for its stewardship, and even small changes can make a real difference. You may not have a garden, but herbs and salads can be grown in pots and window boxes. I guarantee you will feel a real sense of achievement from growing your own, as well as making a difference, both in taste and for the environment.
Food is an essential for life. The Israelites fleeing Egypt with Moses pleaded for sustenance, and God sent manna to eat. In the prayer Jesus taught his followers, we ask for our daily bread. God provides, but God also asks us to use the earth’s resources wisely and well, both for ourselves and others who also share this planet with us.
As we celebrate another harvest, let us give thanks and also look at how we can both share what we have with those who have less through our local food bank, and reduce our impact on God’s creation in how we use the food produced.
Lesley Goldsmith
Chewing over harvest memories
Harvest may not be one of the high-profile festivals in the Church calendar, like Christmas and Easter, but it is one of the pivotal festivals as it is the bread basket of the year. At Christmas and other happy occasions, we will eat, drink and be merry, which we are able to enjoy because of what harvest provides.
My memories of harvest, especially during my childhood, are at the Harvest services when we would take up a basket full of groceries and tinned food. During the service, members of the congregation (mainly children) would take their baskets to the front of the Church, leave them there and, during the week, all that was received was distributed to the elderly within the Parish.
Once a month we always had a Church Parade Family Service. All the Uniformed Organisations dressed in their uniforms, including me as I was a member of the Boys Brigade. We had a drum and bugle band. We would meet at a designated point, which was a mile from the Church. One particular year, Church Parade clashed with the Harvest service. Now, because I didn’t want to march with a Harvest Basket in my hand, I thought I’d better go to Church first and drop my basket off. When I arrived at the start point, one of the leaders said to me “Where’s your hat?” – which was part of the uniform. I had only left it in the Harvest Basket, much to the amusement of my fellow Boys Brigade members. During the week, sometimes it was down to the members of our youth organisations to deliver the Harvest Baskets. I was thinking “There’s some lucky pensioner… amongst their groceries there’s a pillbox hat”.
Over the years at our Harvest service, we always sang ‘We plough the fields and scatter’. My favourite Harvest hymn was ‘Come ye thankful people, come’ but, to my disappointment over the years, we didn’t sing it often. There was always a wheat sheaf made of bread. I thought it was a wonderful work of art. It seemed such a shame to break it up, but it was used for Communion bread every year. I would always get the bit of bread with the crust on it; so, when the Communion Cup came round, I was still chewing.
Years ago, I remember providing tins of food and groceries at Harvest. As times have changed the concept of Harvest has expanded to providing for food banks, giving much needed provisions, not only to the elderly but to all who need it.
John White
How Harvest has shaped my Life
What is Harvest? Most of the time we talk about harvest only in relation with farming, particularly when we are children, but, as we get older and our minds develop, the true meaning of Harvest becomes much clearer to us.
When I was a child, I was always interested in small plants that grew all along the sides of houses. One of the plants produced some little seeds under its leaves, while the branches and leaves (which were oval) stretched out from the main body of the plant, by a stem in the middle, about 6 to 7 cm and grew to a height of approximately 30 cm. But these plants were taken for granted by us as children.
One day my cousin, Grantly, and other children were riding on the toboggan on the slopes of a neighbour’s garden –this was a palm branch which slid on the sloping garden grass. Unfortunately the overcrowding and speed of the toboggan caused a crash, and all the passengers had bruises on some part of their body.
We didn’t call for help. We all knew that we were not supposed to be riding in that area because there were pepper plants, cabbages and ginger, to name a few. And of course my favourite play which was severely damaged. We were only bothered about the damage to the plants while we were trying to conceal what had happened. It was obvious that we couldn’t because the old lady ran out of the house to make enquiries. Surprisingly she shouted, “look what these little devils do to my
seed-under-leaves plants”, while she pulled a few of the same seed plants, with a mixture of anger. Next she called my granny and told her that she must “come quick” to help attend to the little devils. Both ladies took care of all of our bruises with the use of the same seed-under-leaf plants that we as kid used to play with, not knowing how importing they were. From that day I came to realise how important plants were.
My granny, Dovie, and the other old lady were talking and laughing after they had made sure that all was well with us, and the old lady said to us, “way alyo soa ah wha yo reap” (what all of you sow is what all of you will reap). I began to understand that all, or most, plants can be harvested for good use. Up to this day many plants are taken for granted. It is easier to buy over-counter artificial items but, in our days as children, seed-under-leaf plants and many others were very important plants. These were harvested for use as a medical treatment for many ailments, teas, beverages and recreation uses; however, some of them were also detrimental to good health when overused. Many youths got hooked on them.
As I get older, I have started to appreciate the meaning of many things. Whatever you plant or invest in (not necessarily money), can bring about a spiritual harvest (such as through baptism and confirmation in the Church).Through God’s blessings, this gives the individual all that is needed and strength to carry on a good and healthy life that can be passed on to family and others.
I was born in the Caribbean island country of St Vincent and the Grenadines, which comprises of about 32 islands and islets. Only seven of the islands are inhabited –mainland St Vincent, Young Island, Bequia, Mayreau, Canouan, Union Island and Petit St Vincent. On these islands, there are many different religious groups with their own brand of Christianity, but we all attend each other churches and worship together at some festivals. The yearly Harvest Festivals were one of the most important.
Church Harvest Festivals provided the push start for many young talent entertainers. At these events, they had the opportunity from an early age to entertain, training to recite and sing at the Harvest Festival concerts. It was the opportunity for children and adults to be fitted out with the best local designed clothing. These would catch the attention of the commercial communities, and they provided income to the local clothing trade, local shops and small community cottage industries.
I always remember that the first time I wore a suit was at the Harvest at my Church. The suit was made by my Godmother, known as Mother Dublin, who was a seamstress who usually only made babies, ladies, and girls’ clothing. The suit was not a traditional jacket and trouser suit, it was a nice brown and white one with other colours. The shirt had four pockets at the front; the trousers were just ordinary but with matching colours. In those days school uniform was not mandatory in my school, and there was a tradition to wear the same clothing to Church and School. All my School pals loved my outfit but one day we were playing in the school grounds and one of the boys asked me who made my suit. I told him that it was made by Mother Dublin, who he new very well because all his sisters clothing was made by her. Traditionally we were made to believe that women could not make male clothing. Only the tailor, Mr Audaine, should do so. Boys who had their clothing made by a female were called ‘mummy’s cut’, and all, or most, of the boys would heckle any boys wearing such clothing. The good thing was that we did not fight, but it tested us on how well we could take a joke at the time. I was no angel and may have taken part in similar mischief, but we always remembered that most of our parents told us that throwing words is kind but throwing blows is unkind, and those words kept me out of many clashes throughout my life.
Traditionally, St Vincent and the Grenadines is an agricultural-based economy, producing three main products, cotton, arrowroot and bananas, mostly on a few large estates and farms. Of the fruit and vegetables mainly given to the Church, 99% came from the poor farmers at the time. These were sold on the Monday morning after, in the Church Hall or any make shift facilities outside the Church, and a good return was made from the sales, and anything that was not sold was given to institutions or even given away.
For some Churches the revenue raised from the Harvest was the main fundraiser for the year, so people were always willing to give generously. There were times when many of our parents, who had small farms, had to book their Church window one year in advance because of oversubscribed space in the Church. In those good harvesting days of my youth, whether as scouts or servers, we looked forward to stacking all the goodies at the windows. We would hang fruits from the edge of the Church pews, and (in the process and with permission from the scoutmaster or the person in charge) we would have a bite of loose fruit. Yet there was an abundance of people – particularly children –to help out with whatever work had to be done for the preparation for Harvest – and not only members of that particular Church.
Harvest Thanksgiving was always on a Sunday in our nation. Generally all the Churches in the district prepared the Harvest programme, which was circulated to all the other Churches so that there were no clashes of dates. As youngsters we looked forward to going to the mountain farm with our parents or neighbours to pick cocoa, pick up the nutmegs, mangoes, golden apples, near-ripe and green bananas, and countless other fruits and flowers, including other farm produce for the Harvest.
It is sad to say that Harvest as we know it has reach to a low level and declined in all Churches worldwide. When I visit many Churches in different countries in the Caribbean, it is clear that the spirit of Harvest is no longer as good as we knew it when we were younger, which is understandable given the technological world that we live in today.
It was a great surprise to me when I attended my first Harvest Thanksgiving in London because there was no likeness of the Harvest Thanksgiving service that I was accustomed to. But the hymns that were sung were mostly the same as those that I used to sing as a youth during the Harvest Thanksgiving season, which were good memories of my days in our local Church communities in the Caribbean.
Some or most of the hymns in the local Churches that I attended motivated me when things were hard. I was lonely as a young person in a foreign land, where there were no close family and friends, and I had to cope with racial discrimination daily, as I tried to make an honest living in London. I often used those hymns at that time of many difficulties: I worked on construction sites, some were very dangerous places to work, even with membership of a Trade Union, and I was on the brink of leaving. But the words of the old ones remained in the mind, and helped you remember the words of the old folks at home. There was ‘You can only reap if you sow’, meaning that you can only eat and drink if you work. Another was ‘There will never be a harvest time if there was not a planting time’ making it plain to us youngsters that if we did not work we would not be able to eat or achieve the good things in life that that makes it worthwhile. For without it, there would be nothing to thank anyone for and your life will be an empty shell, and of little use to society or yourself.
There is always a food shortage of some kind or another. Each person has different tastes and likes, of what is available on the open market. It is our fundamental right to choose whatever we want and can afford to buy or grow legally. But we live in a world that that tells us that we are
equal on the eyes of God, yet some people of the world are not equal when it comes to basic food. However there is hope, thanks to the many dedicated people and organisation who give their time free of cost to distribute food and other essentials to the various food banks throughout the country. I see it as a daily Harvest of thanksgiving, so I hope and pray that everyone will give as they usually do to organisations and Harvest day celebrations at all Churches.
Leroy Charles
An early recollection
Growing up in the Caribbean the Harvest Festival was an occasion NOT to be missed! Having spent a sizeable part of my childhood in Antigua in the 1970’s, I have very fond memories of my childhood there.
Aged just eight, my siblings and I set foot on a jewel of the Caribbean called Antigua and Barbuda to begin a new adventure. Attendance at Church was definitely a mainstay of family there and we were introduced to some of the customs of the island.
Harvest, Easter and Christmas were three festivals not to be missed in the Christian calendar; these were attended by‘everyone’! At this point I must mention my Great Aunt. She was an esteemed dressmaker and who delighted in adorning her nieces in her latest creations, our Sunday best. We were to be her muses whether we wanted to or not. Thankfully we were young and a new frock was to be savoured whether they were festooned in flowers, flounces or frills!
So what has all this to do with Harvest you might ask? Well, new frock aside, Harvest was when we took our hard-earned produce to Church. Antigua is an island which suffers from drought. Living there, as children we understood the value of water owing to the frequent lack of rain. Most homes had their own water tanks or water butts, catching the very precious drops when it rained. Growing local produce was tough at times and often food had to be imported from neighbouring islands. However, being industrious and nurturing the plants we sowed, the island did grow bountiful crops when it could. Therefore showing and being thankful to God for the crops grown was an integral and necessary part of life.
We would proudly bring what crops we grew, or indeed bought from the market, to our local Church for the Harvest Festival. There were would be sweet corn, coconuts, plantain, freshly picked okra, aubergines, juxtaposed with the tall rugged bamboo-like sticks of sugar cane, sweet potatoes, yams, papaya and a host of other Caribbean fruits and vegetables displayed.
St John’s Church is a large imposing building in the capital of Antigua. I remember having to climb many steps to enter the building. There were several entrances to the Church and we always approached from the west side. Walking along a broad cobble-stoned path we navigated our way between very old gravestones on either side. We would encounter many churchgoers, which included neighbours and family and friends, before the ascent to the top of the steps up to the entrance. Inside the church was dark. It was dark in partly to keep the building cool but also because the pews and all the panelling was constructed from a deep rich mahogany wood. The upkeep of which was task of a deeply dedicated team of volunteer helpers.
I recall during the service, the women would be using fans. They whispered to each other that it was the hottest that they had ever known while, as children, we were excited to see our school friends and family all dressed up in our Sunday best. If too excited, we were given a stern look or – worse still – a poke in the back to remind us of our ‘manners’ in Church! Often this had the opposite effect and provoked even more giggles from super-excited children.
‘We plough the fields and scatter the good seed on the land…’ was and still is an annual staple of a Harvest hymn. It was sung both at Church and at the Church Sunday School which we attended.
At an allocated moment in the then ‘long’ service, the children were allowed to take up the offerings to the altar rails. Our big moment! We were so proud to be given an actual role at last. Our offerings would be subsequently blessed and later redistributed during the week, to the poor and needy.
Growing up in the Caribbean has shaped who I am today and Christianity remains an integral part of my life. Harvest Sunday remains one of those Sundays where it allows me/us to reflect on our lives and to give thanks for all that we have and what we continue to strive for. We can press the pause button in this very busy life of ours and reflect on God’s bountiful harvest and goodness. Harvest as a child then, and as an adult now, is a time of thankfulness. We give thanks to God for our spiritual growth and for the love and fellowship of our friends and families.
Catherine Greenidge
Harvest Poems
I’ve watched the crops being planted by the farmers. I’ve seen them grow week after week throughout the summer. I’ve watched the farmers water the crops, the birds feasting upon the seeds. Butterflies and insects buzzing around.
Now comes the time of the year when the nights are getting shorter and the crops are being harvested. The sun is cooling, but still light enough to enjoy the evenings. Now it is time to celebrate the crops that will become our food.
Yasmin Milad
Harvest time is here again,
Let’s hope it doesn’t rain.
Picking apples, picking pears, off the trees,
Making sure not to disturb the bees.
Digging up parsnips and carrots too,
Lots to eat for me and you.
Zaki Milad
Obituaries
Doreen Wallace
(Born, 11 July 1935; Died, 27 March 2022)
Doreen Wallace was a well-loved member of our 10 o’clock congregation with a good sense of humour (often at her own expense) and never afraid to speak her mind. Although she spent many years at St Edmund’s, from the time she moved into the Parish after her wedding to Donald in 1954, she would often help out behind the scenes at Church events and functions. That was until she allowed Christopher Owens (the new Priest-in-Charge) to convince her to become a Deanery Synod representative in 1999, but this sort of role was not in her blood and she stood down two years later, but remained a loyal supporter of Church events as she had always done. Doreen was the mother of four children – Glen, Tracey, Lee & Toni. She had a love of gardening, with a particular fondness for the Spring, when her favourite plant (the daffodil) was in abundance. She enjoyed holidays with the family, and her favourite tipple was Martini, which the family toasted her with after her funeral. In later years Doreen suffered with mobility issues but, with the aid of a mobility scooter, held on to her independence and often used it to walk Toni’s dog around the Parish. No matter how difficult things got, she made sure she got to Church each week, and was able to be present at St Edmund’s on the Sunday before she died.
Doreen always engaged with people, she always brought a smile to everyone’s face, and in losing her, St Edmund’s lost something special that it can not replace.
Andi Colledge
(Born, 19 March 1948; Died, 22 April 2022)
Andi Colledge was a woman of deep faith. She was not afraid of death and spoke openly of it. During her life she battled with health issues, not least her anorexia. She had a steely personality in a
tiny frame. Animals were very important to her, especially her cats (and she would bring Tilly to the Animal Blessing services each year). She sparkled when talking about her horses Bonny and Blaze, with whom she took part in horse shows, jumping and dressage. Using her accounting skills, she did voluntary work for South Woodford surgery (which was in turn very supportive of her) and Winters Court where she lived. Andi saw it as important to talk about her anorexia, taking part in a Kilroy tv chat show, contributing an article in Woman’s Own and writing to Princess Diana. Her faith was her bedrock: she wrote a theological study on the Gospel of St Mark. Previously a member of the Congregation of Chingford Old Church, she joined St Edmund’s 8 o’clock congregation in 2013, and became a Lay Minister of Communion, for the both that congregation and midweek services. In 2016, ill health prevented her from coming to Church, and she became confined to her home, where she nevertheless continued to receive regular communion. As a mark of respect at her funeral, tearful residents from Winters Court placed single red roses on her coffin.
Kathy Evans
(Born, 16 November 1927; Died, 1 July 2022)
I first came to know Kathy when she joined our Bereavement Group in 2013. She became a regular member, hardly ever missing a meeting, and was always dressed immaculately – members of the group commented on it. One thing that stands out in my mind about her is that the first thing she said each time she arrived was “I’m going to have a word with the big man upstairs”. She would then go and sit in the front pew in the Nave, close her eyes and have a few quiet moments. She would then say “I feel much better now”.
When she had been with us for some time, I could tell she had a personal faith and asked if she would like to be confirmed. Her face lit up and she said she would. She was confirmed in 2017 at the age of 89. The Bereavement Group stopped meeting during the lockdown in 2019, but Kathy and I kept in regular contact by phone every fortnight. She always said during our conversations that she really missed the Group and couldn’t wait until we could all meet again. When things eased, however, Kathy didn’t think it would be wise for her to attend, but was still hopeful that one day she would be able to rejoin her friends. That wasn’t to be, and it was with great sadness that I learned of her death from her granddaughter. Kathy was a really lovely person and she will be missed by all those who knew her.
Pauline Setchfield (Bereavement Group founder)
Bishop Lynne
Lynne Cullens was consecrated as a Bishop at St Paul’s Cathedral on 21 January 2022, having been announced as Peter Hill’s replacement as Bishop of Barking almost two months before. Previously Rector of Stockport, all her ministry up until now has been spent in the north of England. She is a former charity Chief Executive, and her passion for social justice and serving local communities has been a hallmark of her ministry. Addressing Waltham Forest Deanery Synod in May, Bishop Lynne spoke about the disparity of opportunity within the Church between people from different backgrounds. When she was accepted for ordination, she was told that she would never amount to much, possibly said because of her working-class roots. But it is those attitudes she seeks to break. Questions from the floor picked up on this theme, from those who felt the Church could do better in encouraging vocations from people from a wider range of backgrounds to comments on how LGBT+ Christians feel a lack of welcome and acceptance. Lynne affirmed that she is open to all who feel God is calling them, regardless of their circumstances and background, and seeks to bring people together in mutual respect and understanding. She believes, if the Church is to be transformational Good News to the poor and excluded, it must be about “amplifying and advocating for the voiceless in our community”. Lynne comes with a strong vision for the Church, and you will be able to meet and hear her on 20 November, at our 10 a.m. service, and at our bring-and-share meal afterwards, when she joins us for our Patronal Festival when we remember St Edmund.
Thanks for what?
Harvest often feels like a festival that doesn’t really know what it is about. The keeping of Harvest as a Church festival isn’t as old as you might imagine – only first kept in 1843 when the Vicar of Morwenstow in Cornwall invited his parishioners to a special thanksgiving service for the harvest. And from then it grew to become what we feel a traditional keeping of Harvest is all about: giant marrows propped up on furniture around a Church, bits of wheat or corn to give that feeling of a rural idyll even in the most urban of settings and, in true Victorian-Christian tradition, the need to be ever so truly thankful. But are we selling Harvest short?
Long before the Church laid claim to it, in pre-industrial agricultural societies, harvest had a life-or-death importance. As summer ended, the community would undertake long and arduous work from sunrise to sunset to gather in the harvest before the cold and rain set in and ruined the crop. Men, women, children, and animals all worked for the common aim of a ‘Harvest Home’, safeguarding their community from starvation during the hardship of the ensuing winter.
The festival at the end of the harvest was a thank you to those who had worked so hard and pulled together for the benefit and survival of the community. The celebration was born from the relief that there was hope and reassurance as the community turned to face the dark months that lay ahead.
In terms of its etymology, the words ‘thank’ and ‘think’ are related. Being thankful is, at its most basic level, the sparing of a thought: thinking of what was needed to be done for – what contributed to – the sense of gratitude we feel (for whatever reason). It is remembering that the roots of the joy and wellbeing, which we experience now, may lie in dark places and costly sacrifices.
Throughout the year, we are bombarded with countless days set aside for us to say thank you: to our mothers,our fathers, grandparents, carers. There’s even a general ‘ThankYouDay’– established in the wake of the recent Covid pandemic (but don’t panic: it’s already gone by … at least for this year). And these do provide potential to be more than just (for example) a “Thank you for being my mummy” – allowing us rather to think of the cost in terms of pain, life-changes, hardships and sacrifices that parenthood can bring. The special annual days can help to focus what should really ever be at the forefront of our minds across the year’s 365 days: the ‘thanking’ or thinking of what others have done or borne for us. However,if we are honest, these occasional days often stand in place of that ‘ever being conscious’ of the cost others have paid, and our ‘thank-yous’ can feel as cheap as the greeting cards that capitalise on the ever-increasing number of occasions being marked.
Do we need to look again at what thanksgiving might mean in terms of harvest? In a society where few would know how to survive if others did not grow and produce food for our needs, we need to be careful that our thanksgiving does not just simply become a “callout” for the career choices of those in farming and the food production industry. In a Church where a fruitful yield is seen in terms of our dependency on God, we need to be careful of the implication for years when the harvest fails and the resulting picture of a God who can capriciously dish out both bounty and famine on whim.
If Harvest’s food thanksgiving simply focuses on our own benefit, ease and survival, without considering the burden, suffering and carnage inflicted on others, it becomes little more than a celebration of good fortune and self interest. If Harvest means anything in the context of faith, it will point us beyond just thanking for the food we eat to thinking of the impact on others. That may be in the poverty of those among whom we live who struggle to feed while we consume. That may be in the hunger of world populations as crops they grow are transported to the rich nations. That may be in the degradation of the environment and loss of biodiversity and wildlife as natural habitats are destroyed to sustain our appetite to breed and feed. That may be in the slaughter of animals with 98-99% of their natural lifespan still unlived in order to feed our taste for death. That may be in the consequences of greenhouse gas emissions we generate now for a world that will struggle to sustain life after we have gorged and died.
Unless a deeper thinking underlines our thanking, what are we giving thanks for?
Colin Setchfield
Retirement – what is that?
When I first retired in 2012, I had some ideas of projects I would like to pursue but early in 2013, I was asked by Lesley (our Vicar) if I would like to attend a meeting in Leyton about setting up a food bank as residents in Waltham Forest – along with people everywhere – were beginning to struggle. I went along to meet with representatives from Churches of all denominations and from all over the borough. It was felt that, as Waltham Forest is a long thin shape, we would need to set up different bases in the north, centre and south of the borough so clients could get there. A Chingford group was set up and having found out that the Eat or Heat food bank already existed in Walthamstow, we decided to become a part of that one: and so, in May 2013, E4 Eat or Heat opened.
It was decided to hold it at South Chingford Congregational Church as it had space and availability of hall time. We opened on Friday Mornings. Our first few months saw us with about half a dozen clients each week. Some were single people and a few were collecting for families. We had a small cupboard in which to store food. Soon that was not enough and Julia, who was running the food bank then, persuaded her daughter to swap her Church cupboard with us. But that did not last long and so the Church kindly built us a cupboard in the corner of the Hall giving us the two. But guess what, that did not last long either, and so they extended that to an enormous cupboard. Now we have that as the cupboard we take food from and use the old cupboard to store food with longer best before dates.
So how does it run? On Monday mornings from 9.30 to 11 a.m., a group of us are there to receive
donations from anyone. Most of our donations come via all the Churches in Chingford and Highams Park, and there are also a number of people who collect from their friends and neighbours to drop off each week. Members of one political party make generous donations too. When goods are received, they have to be checked that they are in date and the month and year is written on in large print. Then it is stored in the appropriate place in the cupboards ready to be used the next day. We also put aside some items for the random table – more of that later. Most of the volunteers on Monday are members of different Churches in the area and most are retired with an average age of around 75 – several considerably older. There are a few younger people who help when they are not working. Once a fortnight we receive the items that members of the public have donated in Sainsbury’s at Low Hall. Those weeks are manic.
On Tuesdays the clients come to collect their food parcels. Our numbers grew considerably during the first lockdown and, for a while, we were open twice a week in order to see everyone referred to us. We are now back down to one morning seeing around 30 clients each week. Again, some are single people, others are families, so we are helping about 100 people each week. When lockdown came we moved to serving people outside and several areas have grown. We now have fresh fruit and vegetables on a table, which is my area and also the random table which is usually run by Pat, a member of South Chingford Methodist Church. When clients arrive, they are asked to sit on the seats provided and whoever is on the desk will come and take their name and check they have a referral if they are new. Their form will then be passed to a volunteer to make up the parcel for them. There is a basic list of items to be given but, before they pack it, volunteers will check with the client whether there are any dietary requirements not noted on the form or if they are in special need of something – we cannot always meet all requests as it depends what has been donated. Once they have their parcel, they come to me to get some fresh greengrocery. (We now also give fresh bread, cheese, eggs and butter: these are ordered from Sainsbury’s along with some of the fruit and
vegetables paid for by donations given to us or the main Walthamstow branch).
Then it is time to look on the Random table. “What is that?”I hear you ask On it are all sorts of items: any item that is donated, but not on our basic list. We get given a variety of things from cake decorations to pickles and spices – you name it we have probably had it at some time. We also get items that are just a month or two out of date but still fine to eat. We also have a few things like new cosmetics and some books that have kindly been donated. We do not have much storage space so cannot take clothes, but small items are welcome. Sometimes we have a glut of a particular item and, rather than see it go out of date, will offer it as an extra for people to take. So from the Random table clients can take just a few extra items each week. You will also find the sanitary products there. Clients also receive two packs of cleaning products, one for themselves and one for
their homes. This is given on the first week of each referral.
Sometimes in our donations we are given really large catering packs of food. We are unfortunately not able to use these as we do not have a suitable place for them and none of us has the qualification needed to put the food into smaller packs. But do not worry, we have other destinations for these. They will be passed to other places that provide meals for homeless people such as Christian Kitchen and others. We do however make up small packs of washing powder to give out. Very few of our clients have cars and, with the weight of other food they are given, cannot cope with large packs of anything. For us small is always best.
After many years of being responsible for the food bank, Julia decided to give it up. Since then we have been joined by two members from the Walthamstow branch on a Tuesday so that we have enough people to carry out all the jobs needed. We have a couple of people who can make deliveries if needed. It is not our policy to deliver parcels, but we have a few clients who are unwell and unable to get to us. At St Edmund’s we have the animal food bank so, if people are receiving food parcels from E4 Eat or Heat, they can come here and get food for their pets.
There is also now a branch of Eat or Heat in Leyton. Each branch follows the same principles, but is run slightly differently depending on the circumstances of its location. We are lucky in Chingford as, although now outside, there is space for clients to wait in a peaceful setting. Even when the queue is long, there are seats for those who have been waiting the longest. Everyone seems to be friendly as they wait. We have rarely had any problems. Sometimes if we are unable to start, due to a hold up with the delivery from Sainsbury’s, people get a little restless but that does not happen often. All the volunteers are there to serve the clients and we treat them as equals and friends. If they have been coming a while we know about their specific circumstances and they know a bit about us, so we can ask each other how we are getting on. Although the aim is to give advice and support so people can move on from the food bank, current circumstances mean that many people need to be referred again. It is good to see how people are doing. They know that, although we are busy and need to move on to the next client, there is always time for a joke and a chat. This mutual respect for each other makes for a pleasant time for all, and I can count on one hand the number of clients who have not reciprocated with respect towards the volunteers.
You may be wondering how people get referred to the food bank. They need to get a referral by a professional person. So Social or Support Workers, Housing Officers, Doctors, Nurses, Schools, Ministers of Religion, Citizens Advice Bureaux, the DWP, and the Police can all make referrals. All referrals go to Walthamstow and then, if they live in the E4 area, are passed to us. Each referral lasts for 4 weeks and clients can have just a few referrals before they need to have a break. Hopefully in that time they have managed to sort out financial support from benefits etc, but this is not always possible. Some of our clients are living in hostels – although they have somewhere to live, they may not have cooking facilities so all this needs to be taken into consideration when making up the parcels.
If you think you can help by donating food or cleaning goods please bring it to South Chingford Congregational Church, on the corner of Hampton Road, on a Monday between 9.30 and 11 a.m. or you can drop at St Edmunds on a Saturday between 10 and 10.30 a.m. Although we can receive donations on Tuesday mornings, it is difficult as we are busy giving out the food. I have now been volunteering at the food bank for 9 years. It has been a busy time but has been a rewarding experience. Not how I saw my retirement at all, but you never know what God has in store for you.
Debbie Watson
Wildlife’s Harvest
The word ‘harvest’comes from the old English word “hærfest” which means autumn. In years gone by, this was a very important time of year because if the harvest failed communities would be struggling to have enough food to last them through the winter months. Harvest was a vital time of year when communities united and came together to gather in the crops. This got me thinking – do animals have their own harvest at this time of year and how do they survive the harsh winter months?
Of course some of our wildlife migrate to warmer climes while others go into hibernation, but what about those who don’t? It must be crunch time to start hoarding food so they can survive the winter months so in effect it is their harvest time. We know that squirrels gather and bury nuts for later use but what about other animals that neither migrate nor hibernate.
- Moles live underground so get protection from the cold during the winter months, but if they don’t stock up with food they will go hungry and not survive. Their main food source are earthworms To ensure they have enough food to survive during the winter, the moles collect and store the worms alive in special chambers underground and immobilise them by a bite to the head segment.
- Similarly, shrews hoard live food but unlike moles, they store insect larvae. In order to keep their catch paralysed, they inject them with their toxic saliva and keep them in their nest chambers ready for consumption.
- Voles are very food focused before the onset of winter. They put on as much extra weight as they can by eating a diverse amount of vegetation which keeps them warm and gives them internal energy throughout the winter months.
- Badgers forage for nuts, seeds and berries in order to build up their fat reserves for winter; while foxes keep on the lookout for any small animals or insects that may be around.
- Hedgehogs, dormice and bats are the only animals that truly hibernate so they need to eat extra food at the beginning of autumn while it is plentiful. It is stored as body fat so that while they are in a deep sleep it is used for energy. Before going into hibernation, they may put some food in their burrows so that, if they should wake for short periods, there is something for them to eat.
So, how can we help wildlife to survive winter? One way is not to do too much tidying up in our gardens. Don’t prune fruit bearing bushes or trees. Let leaves and twigs pile up in parts of your gardens as these will provide places for hedgehogs and dormice to hibernate. Leaves also give shelter to insects and also provide food when they start to decompose. If you need to light a bonfire, be sure to check for concealed and hidden animals first.
Wintertime is especially hard for foxes, squirrels, birds and badgers. If they can’t find sufficient food, their body temperatures drop. Leaving seeds and nuts out for them would be a lifeline for them. Also it is important to leave out fresh water for them.
All nature reflects God’s glory. The bible tells us that it is our responsibility to care for all of his creation and it is the obligation of us all to do this to the best of our ability.
Pauline Setchfield
Asylum Voice
Occasionally, refugee charities share the stories of some of those they work with, in order that people hear their voices and are reminded that refugees and asylum seekers are ordinary people facing extraordinary struggles. Recently, a person who is seeking asylum in this country approached us asking if we would share his story. We have removed personal details to protect his identity.
I was born into a polygamous marriage in Nigeria. When I was only one-year old, my father told my mother to leave the home, and so she, my brother and I found ourselves living on the streets. Consequently, I never went to school, but by the age of three I was hawking water in the street and when I reached the age of seven, I learned a trade becoming a hair stylist. It was a hard life and the three of us suffered a lot. When I was 15, a friend approached me saying that he knew where I could get a good job. Though I explained that I was illiterate, he reassured me that I shouldn’t worry. My mother warned me against going, but I promised her that I would be fine and went. When I arrived it wasn’t what I had expected, and was taken to a forest, where I was trained in various types of ammunition. I was sworn to secrecy, and told not to tell anyone about this, else my family and I would be killed. My role was to keep quiet and to follow orders. After the training, I learned the type of work involved. I couldn’t cope with the work and the illegality of it, and after five years I managed to leave the camp and returned to my mother and brother. However, it wasn’t safe as those I had worked for began to search for me, and so my family left fleeing to a neighbouring country, where I was given a permit to remain. But our whereabouts were detected. I informed the police that the people I was running from were looking for me, but my mother couldn’t stand just waiting for them to find us and warned me “They may kill us before the police arrive”. All we could do was to flee again.
We returned to our village. Our return was noticed, but vigilantes promised to provide us with protection. However, instead, I was set up. A friend asked me to lend him my taxi, which I did. It was the middle of the night when he returned telling me he got a flat tyre. What had happened however was a kidnapping in the village with my taxi being used as the car. The registration number was caught on CCTV, and eventually the body was found in a shallow grave. I was working when my mother called me on my phone; a large group of police had arrived. My mother shouted down the phone to me, telling me not to come back as they would kill me. I ran but sadly they killed both her and my brother and burned down the house. I called the friend who had taken my taxi, who pleaded with me to forgive him explaining that he had been forced to do it by powerful people. Four of them were eventually arrested, and though sentenced to death by hanging, some months later my friend rang me from Malaysia. Pressure had been brought to bear and they had been released and instead I was declared ‘Wanted’. If caught, I would be summarily killed.
I fled to Algeria, entering the country across the desert, where I was captured by bandits who imprisoned me underground for a year. There were many hundreds imprisoned there, and each day people would be killed or raped or molested. I was told to contact my family instructing them to send money in order to secure my release, but – as I explained to them – I no longer had anyone. Life there became unbearable, and I was suffering with mental health issues. I met with the guy in charge of the prison, and said that they should kill me as I was tired of living but was unable to kill myself as I saw that option as a sin. He called me mad, and tying my face and hands, I was taken from the prison to the middle of the desert, where they left me.
Nevertheless, I managed to trek to the Algerian border town of In Guezzam, from where a man helped me to get to the city of Tamanrasset. But once there, the police picked me up and was taken to a court where I was given fourteen days to leave the country. But I had nowhere I could go; I had no family. One of the police officers however seemed to be touched by my story, and giving me 4,000 dinars and papers told me to take a bus to Laâyoune where I would find a better life. There I found work as a labourer, and made some money. However, things changed in 2017, when Algeria began to remove people back to Tamanrasset, where life would not be as good. I spoke to the boss of the building site on which I worked, and told him my story. Moved, he gave me money, and arranged with a friend for me to go to Libya. Once there, I was asked whether I intended to remain or to travel to Europe. I arrived at the sea side, and boarded a boat and eventually arrived in Italy on 14 July.
I had managed to change the money I had into euros in order to help to feed myself. But it wasn’t what I had expected. We found ourselves dumped into a camp at Calabra, where we just ate and slept. I explained to them that I wanted to get an education as I had never received one during my childhood, but I was informed that wasn’t going to be possible. After two years in the camp, I was suffering with blood pressure, anxiety, and depression, with no medication other than Paracetamol. I left for Netherlands in order to receive medical treatment, and once there I learned that I also had a heart problem and mental health issues. I was informed that I might need surgery though needed my documents. I contacted the camp in Italy to ask if my paperwork could be forwarded on as this was required, though nothing came. Next, I went to Germany; it was there I had a heart attack. I was treated well, and received medication, and remained in hospital there for three months, before returning to Italy for my asylum application to be processed.
I still held out for education, but that wasn’t going to come. I ran to France to see if that held better prospects, but was told that Italy was responsible for my asylum claim and, if I wanted France to take my case, I would need to engage a lawyer. I was homeless, and had no way to afford the 3,000 euros required. I ended up sleeping in a tent in Calais. I was short of medication, and fainted. I was taken to hospital and given medication for my long-term needs. I believed that Calais was simply a place where the homeless stayed, but was told by others that Calais was from where people travelled on to Britain. Some of the French police even informed us that the camps were too full, and mentioned about moving to Britain. But that cost 2,000 euros, which I didn’t have.
It isn’t Calais that people sail from but rather Dunkirk. Some others had bought a boat and were going to make the journey, and though I had no money one of them agreed to get me on board. The journey was very dangerous and I would not advise anyone to risk it. We lost one guy, who fell overboard and was never found. I was useful to the others on the boat as only I could speak French. (From my journeys, I learned French, Italian, Dutch and English.) And so, when the French coastguard came alongside the boat, I could translate into Arabic for them. Those in the boat said that they want to reach Britain, and despite the risks didn’t wish to return back to France. We were given water and food, and were escorted until the British boat met us. I arrived in Britain in March 2022, and am pursuing my asylum claim here, currently trying to get the money together for a lawyer –but, being unable to work, that is hard. My dream is still to find a school and get an education, as my desire is to make my mother and brother proud of me.
© 2022 St Edmund, Chingford
St Edmund, Chingford 