Judith H. Patterson - Judith

ISBN: 9781483511061

This book is dedicated to:

My daughters,

Amanda Susan and Melanie Judith.

The strength and love I have received from you as my family is so deep and all compassing.

God knows how much you have meant to me. I love you so dearly.

My daughter Susan Margaret, husband John, and sons Steven, Michael and Adam.

Thank you for allowing us into your lives and allowing us to feel accepted and loved.

We are thankful to call you family.

And thank you to Steve, who has been such a blessing in always being ready and kind to help in every time of need.

My two beautiful granddaughters,

Hannah Judith and Olivia Grace.

What joy you gave Ian and I as we played with two tiny miracles given by God, to watch you grow and to be blessed to babysit, and thank you for the love you brought to us.

I am privileged to have each one of you as my family and thank our God daily that - I belong.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you Heather Carlin for all the time and effort in editing and advising.

Also Andrew Carlin, what a blessing you have both been to me.

Amanda Patterson, thank you for always being so amazing with what you are able to do with photos.

Thank you Evan Vicary for showing me a way to have this book published.

God bless each one, for making this book easier to complete.

PROLOGUE

Mary stood looking over the tinder dry paddocks from the old farmhouse that she, her husband and little girl, Lorraine, had just moved into.

Cliff had wanted to come and manage this farm to escape fighting in the Second World War which had just begun. He was a born farmer, but Mary loved socialising with people and it was so lonely out here, and so dry. There were no farmhouses close by, only another one mile away, and she felt lonely already.

After Lorraine was born, Mary decided that there were not going to be any more babies for her as her labour was days long and arduous, and she didn't want to think about going through that again. But her body was telling her she may be pregnant again, and she was concerned.

On their one battery wireless, the broadcaster had just announced that Japanese war planes were flying over Darwin. When Mary heard this her concerns were, What lies ahead for us all? and What safety is there from such a cruel foe?

Her dreams of youth seemed far away now and, even though Cliff had promised her that he would only let her live in this lonely place for three years, as he was sure the war would be over by then, Mary already missed her neighbors who lived next to her at Fyansford. She also missed walking into Geelong with Lorraine, in the baby's pusher, to visit other people that she had grown to know, and her mother and father who lived over the hill in Fyansford.

Mary turned to walk inside away from the never-ending heat. It was time to put Lorraine down for her afternoon nap, and the dry land was beginning to depress her.

What Mary did not know was that the three years Cliff had promised, would in reality turn into eighteen. Eighteen years of cooking for the shearers who came every year to shear the sheep, and bedding down visitors who felt the novelty of the farm was something to visit on weekends. Eighteen years of milking cows morning and night, of collecting kindling to light the fire so meals could be cooked and the kitchen kept warm. Eighteen years of filling a copper with water from the dam to wash the clothes. No electricity or running water, and three more babies to arrive before Lorraine turned five years of age. The last child was a boy, Errol. The little boy so longed for, who would help would dad on the farm.

CHAPTER ONE

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. Luke 12.7

I was born on Sunday, June 25, 1939, and weighed 10lbs 8 oz. I was named Judith Helen. Helen after one of Dads sisters, whom Mum really liked, and Mum just liked the name Judith. I was never very fond of the name until I read the meaning of it which is Praising the Lord, and Helen means Light; the two seemed to go well together. In reading my mothers journals since her death in 2009, it seems I was very fair and had a turned up nose, and as my mother put it, She is a very pretty baby.

My memories of childhood have long been forgotten but again, as Mum wrote in her constant journaling, Judy loved to pray, and was the mildest natured of all my children.

Mum was a very petite woman yet gave birth to huge babies. After me, Rhonda Mary was born weighing 10 lbs. and, almost two years later, Errol Clifford was brought into the world weighing 11 lbs. 4 oz., which nearly killed both my mother and Errol, as there were no caesareans in those days. So that was four, and Mum had many worrying times that there might be a fifth, but we remained the final four.

Mum always tried to bring us up in the ways of God. She had learnt from a Seventh Day preacher that Jesus saves, and had given her heart to Him while we lived on the farm.

She would always read us Bible stories at bedtime, and we also did Religious Education by correspondence for many years, since the closest church was a distance from the farm.

I can remember asking Jesus into my heart as a very little girl, but whenever there was an alter call in churches attended as the years went by, I would still walk down to the altar to give my heart again to Him, as I felt very sorry for the pastor if nobody gave any heed to his call for Salvation.

We attended camps, and had much fun in going to them, although I always had trouble leaving home through insecurity.

I can well remember my schooling at the Paraparap State School which was three miles from our home, up gravel roads, and we would ride our bikes rain, hail or shine. Dad was terrified of using the old car to take us anywhere really, except the fortnightly visits to Geelong to stock up on food for the next fortnight. Dad always used to say that the car would fall to bits on the bumpy, unmade roads; this literally scared me so much I would be constantly looking down at the floor boards of the car to see if I could see the road appearing as things fell off.

Because the Paraparap School was also the Post Office, on school holidays we needed to collect the mail from the Post Office, so I would saddle up our black horse named Bint and ride the three miles to get to the Post Office. Bint would always just do a slow walk as we went towards the destination, but as soon as I turned her towards home she would begin to gallop, and try to go under every low branch where there were trees to dislodge me off her back, I would come to our Driveway and Dad would be on the front verandah hitting his old hat on his knees and yelling Stop that b....... horse. I never could, and would lie on her neck until we came to a final stop when we reached her stable. She was always lathered in sweat when I took her saddle and bridle off.

I was good at sport as a child, especially softball. I was a very fast runner and out ran many others in races, as there were sports at the various schools we often joined together with.

I do not remember ever being a very good, or clever, student. I loved to be shown how to do something, but to study it always made me feel confused.