HOPE IS THE THE THING

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul,
and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all.”

Last Wednesday (30 November 2011), listening to Margaret Mutu being interviewed on the Ngāti Kahu radio show, we heard the sound of a text message being received and her tone change as she finished responding to the host’s question. “Something has distracted her,” I said to my husband. Then we heard her ask the host, “Have you heard anything about a fire up home?” He had not.

The text Margaret received that night was how many of us first learnt of the fire at Karikari that contributed to the deaths of two men later that night.

I never met John “Prickles” de Ridder but I know his name and it is held for good. I did meet Willy MacRae and he is a good man. As I think of them both flying through that night over our burning whenua, dipping down to the waters of Rangaunu, seeking to find and help our distressed people who had run there to escape death; I recall Emily Dickinson’s poem about the bird of hope.

“And sweetest in the gale is heard; and sore must be the storm
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm.”

The next day, as messages and questions poured in from all over the world, the extent and nature of the losses were becoming horribly clear. Property and acres of land with all its fauna and flora were burnt. Fanned by strong winds, the fires were threatening more destruction. But the worst news of all was the deaths of John and Willy beneath the waters of Rangaunu. Traumatised and bewildered, the people all gathered in one home.

By the end of that day both men had been recovered from the sea and Te Taumata Kaumātua o Ngāti Kahu had placed a rahui from Wairahoraho Stream on the Rangaunu side, around Whakapouaka and down to Matai Bay on the Tokerau side.

Ever since then, it is upon the bereaved families of Willy MacRae and John de Ridder that the aroha and karakia of Te Whānau Moana, the hapū of Karikari have remained focused. Because they know that, while they can and will rebuild their homes, only God can and will resurrect these men from death.

The fire is being treated as suspicious by the police and a very few people have tried to use that to push their own causes and prejudices. But the vast majority have simply offered Christlike charity and comforting hope.

In the midst of this shared tragedy, may we will all listen for the song of that sweet bird.

“I've heard it in the chillest land, and on the strangest sea;
yet never, in extremity, it asked a crumb of me.”

Haere atu ra e rua nga tangata hautoa ki to mātou Matua i te rangi. Haere haere haere atu ra.