L.J's red jumper chronicles.

Take my hand and lead thy spirit to Thine For my body thus flesh remains Give me a moment’s glance I will ask To make thy peace with no regret With no withering to salt to become.   Hold my hand to journeys’ end Where my fate lies with Thine To suffereth or to rejoice? I hope my name is in the book.   Was it worth all I did? My deeds on Earth are read to me Was my heart right Thine will ask Unto to Thine I kneel and bow With my spirit I wait in judgement.   With my judgment set on stone I walk thy fate that waitheth for me As my spirit fades away, I hope the ones I left behind Live their lives right for this day.      

  ‘Please help him…help him out!’ To date these words still ring in my ear.   ‘That food is not going to cook itself!’ My mum shouted out to any one of her child who was within earshot. The trick was always to hope you were the only one of your siblings who heard it so that you can tell the others the task was assigned to them under the false pretence that it came directly from mum. My elder sister, Lauren, was the queen bee of doing that!   But for today it was a case of all hands-on deck situation in the kitchen. Visiting that day were our godmother, mom’s friend, our maternal Aunties and Lauren’s friend. It was going to be ladies' night and we always aimed to impress with our prowess in cooking. With my sisters Lauren and Paula we each automatically took the role of our speciality in the kitchen. Lauren was the meat queen, Paula was the pastry queen and I was the worldwide exquisite cuisine, of which for that day I was making Indian naans and baked potatoes. With t