Remembering Daisy

Daisy died with a hymn book in her hand


I don’t remember Mum and Dad

She said

Every priest my father

Every nun my mum

They all my mother

They strict

They hit us, here and here

If we run


They took us

She laughed

We ran ran ran   we hide

I never saw my Mum again


I tell you my story

For my children   their children


Daisy waved the hymn book in her hand

And she sang

The Lord’s my shepherd I’ll not want…


Daisy died with a hymn book in her hand


(c) Mary Tang 2015

In 2006 I was a volunteer cook for an indigenous community in the Kimberley, Western Australia.  Many I met were brought up by missionaries who ‘cared’ for them after they were taken legally by a government who believed that they would be better off with white folks.  ‘Daisy’ was one of the ‘Stolen Generation’ who bore no grudge and became a devout Christian.  She was as innocent as the child she was when she was taken from her family, till the day she died.

About Mary Tang

An urban orchardist everyday, a volunteer regularly, a poet sometimes and a blogger since March 2015. I travel when I can. Food is a constant.
This entry was posted in Memoir, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Remembering Daisy

  1. Beautiful Mary. Once again, you present something that has meaning for me. At the risk of flooding you with my earlier posts, I think you would like this:

    Liked by 1 person

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