Thursday, October 05, 2006

Louise Fox: wonderful young Jewish woman

I met Ester through Angela my teacher at Melton. Angela was not simply my teacher but she gave us her whole wonderful self each week. Last Rosh Hashana I was welcomed into Ester and Angela's home.

I met Ester twice. I can't say that I knew her and yet she left a lasting impression on me. I heard Ester doven, noticed how thoughtful she was to the people around her, how welcoming she made me feel, I listened as she talked about refugees and noticed her laughter and playfulness. I came away from their home and told a friend of mine that I had met the most wonderful young Jewish woman. Ester was memorable for the best of reasons.

Angela, I am so glad that I met your daughter.

I send you all of my love.


Louise x

Robin Richardson: a day to remember

A Day to Remember – headlines for Ester

Ester celebrated becoming Bat Mitzvah on the Saturday following her thirteenth birthday in the Hebrew calendar. One of the presents she received was a copy of the Guardian published on the day she was born, 26 April 1982. It was accompanied by a piece of light verse, A Day to Remember. Extracts are reproduced below, with apologies for the awful rhymes and scansion and, at one point, a really awful, awful pun.

(Around the time of her fifth birthday, Ester, Angela and I went to see Cats. The next day I wrote a bit of light verse for her, recalling the previous evening. My effort wasn’t exactly T.S.Eliot, to put it mildly, and I apologised. ‘Sorry, Ester, it’s awful doggerel.’ Without a pause she responded: ‘No, not awful doggerel, Robin. It’s awful catterel.’)

A Day to Remember

Well, Ester, there’s a newspaper here for you,
dated the 26th of April, 1982.

A day to remember, with heart and voice,
the day the prime minister said: ‘Rejoice!’ –
though the cause for joy she had in mind
wasn’t either good or kind.
SOUTH GEORGIA SEIZED, we read. The paper then says,
quoting a diplomat, one Costa Mendez,
sounding subdued and sane, not fierce or frantic,
that Britain is at war in the South Atlantic.

A day for rejoicing, we do here all agree,
but not for the reason Mrs, now Lady, T
proclaimed (for since when was the short fuse
of Her Majesty’s Government good news?),
but because the event which really blessed her,
and the whole world too, was you, Ester.
You were the event for which rejoicing was due
on the twenty-sixth of the fourth, nineteen eighty-two.

(We ought to register, by the way,
that also peace was front page news that day –
but unenthusiastically, almost mournful, moping:
ISRAEL RESIGNS ITSELF TO HOPING.)

Inside the paper we seek signs to see
if humankind saw cause for festivitee
that day – see if the human species knew
what really mattered on two six April, ’82.

And well, er, no, everything’s pretty dire –
there’s little here to enthuse or inspire.

Eg, BRITAIN SOON TO BE A THIRD WORLD NATION
unless it puts an end to progressive education –
this is the view and the voice on
page 3 of Mr, now Sir, Rhodes Boyson.
(On a later page, incidentally, this day,
there’s a job advert from the ILEA –
three posts vacant for a TV director,
who’ll make, no doubt, politically incorrecter
programmes, progressive and proud,
than nowadays, Ester, would be allowed.)

There’s a reason, though, to cheer our kin and kith
in a TV review by Nancy Banks Smith.
For her, it’s not the Falklands showing right from wrong
but the Eurovision contest for a Euro-song.
The Royaume Uni done well, more or less – plus ou moins,
but Finland, poor old Finland – nul points.
(They used to be musically gifted but now, we see,
Finns ain’t what they used to be.)

We turn to morality, here’s Jill Tweedie, er,
writing about discussions in the media.
She complains about ‘balanced’ presentations of views,
says you can’t have balance about all of the news.
She seems to be making, in those distant days,
a prophetic critique of The Moral Maze.

As for TV this evening, on the whole,
there’s nothing much on to gladden the soul.
We look for bounce and shout, and serenity too,
but BARRY MANILOW IN BRITAIN will scarcely do.
Nor will it help us to feel at all calmer
to watch the prime minister on Panorama.

But any way, any way, any way,
We do rejoice as we remember this day.

(All praise soars, now and for ever,
over words like any way, but, however.
Hopefulness, peace, serenity, light
grow amongst all the same, yet, despite.)

We sing and we bless, we do, we do.

So let’s hear it for the twenty sixth of April,
nineteen eighty-two.

For Ester with love from us all, on another day you are especially alive,6 May 1995.

Joanna Kramer: a heightened sense of purple

Ester, everything I see around me is recast in shades of purple.
Everything I recall of you is imbued with purple flourishes.

Your laughter – wide, generous, embracing
Sweet purple
Your tears – a summer of sadness we shared
Bitter purple

Your song –
Rich and resonating with purple timbre –
It coloured our years of friendship
And I am washed in its afterglow.

I can still see you and hear you, a flash of purple brilliance.
You dazzled me, warmed me, pumped purple fire through me.

You still do.
You always will.

Ester Bracha

Ester, you were, are, and will always be a blessing
In my memory
In my heart
In my life.

Joanna Kramer