Romans 14:7-12 "The life and death of each of us has its influence on others"

Luke 7: 11-17 "He was moved with compassion for her"

Terry was born in Glasgow in 1923. His parents brought him to be baptised at St. Athony's Church in Govan. That baptismal commitment was to be recalled and renewed when Terry became a Salesian, making his first vows at Beckford, near Gloucester in 1942. Consecrated through the gift of the Spirit, Terry dedicated his life to the service of young people.

In the late 40's terry taught in Shrigley, Chertsey and Bolton. Fr Michael Duggan was a boy in Chertsey at that time. He remembers "Brother" Terence as one of five 'brothers' (clerics). "They created a lovely warm atmosphere, which had a profound influence on me". Terry played football with the School First Eleven. Michael, not being a footballer himself, was unsure if this was because Terry was so good or because he looked so young. It was probably a bit of both. Terry was a skilled footballer.

After theological studies in Lyon, Terry returned to Beckford to be ordained in 1952. Fr Pat McGrath and Fr Jim Pilling were ordained with him.

As a young priest, Fr Terry was to teach for a further 12 years in Chertsey. There were boarders at Chertsey in those days, and Terry became the Catechist - that is, he had a special care for the spiritual life and physical health of the boarders and community. Hard working and conscientious, he took his responsibilities very seriously. "His whole life was devoted to the care of the boys; he had no time for anything else." In our Salesian Constitutions we read: That you are a young person is enough to make me love you very much. For you I study, for you I work, for you I live, for you I am ready even to give my life. (Con 14)

In 1964, Terry became part of the founding community at the new salesian College in Bootle, Merseyside, where he was to teach for 20 years. His main subject was French. He gave himself to his new mission with tireless energy. Fr Duggan remembers those days: "When I went to work at Bootle, Terry took me under his wing, and we did a lot together. He had a football team and so had I. Keen cyclists, we took groups of boys out cycling, Terry at the front, myself at the back, out to Southport, or across the Wirral. A picnic, a swim, and home again."

A dedicated teacher, Terry was appointed Head of Lower School with Fr Neil Murphy Head of Upper School, and Fr Maurice Gordon Headmaster. I was just starting my own Salesian life when Terry started at Bootle. I came to regard that community as the 'crème de la crème", for it was a tough assignment, and the more I heard, the more I admired them. All of them, Terry included, were a powerful influence on me.

As a priest, Terry had the joy of celebrating family marriages and jubilees, and being presentfor other family celebrations. Summer holidays were spent with family too. His family have good memories of those times, and I honour the part they played in sustaining Terry in his ministry.

After 37 years teaching, Fr Terry had a well-earned sabbatical in Berkeley, California, from where he returned in 1985 to join the Parish Team in St Paul's Muirhouse, Edinburgh. He was to work there for nearly 15 years. I was Team Leader in thos eyears, and have so many pictures of Terry in my mind, and one in particular. The BBC came to film an "Advent Songs of Praise" in the parish. They didn't know what they'd let themselves in for! Picture Terry, standing in the middle of the Shopping Centre, serene and calm, holding the Advent Wreath aloft, surrounded by screaming "weans", barking dogs, and exploding fireworks!

In parish life you are at the mercy of the doorbell and the telephone, but Terry was always so welcoming. I know he didn't like being interrupted when he was at his prayers or his sermons, but you would never have guessed it. He was politeness itself, with an ability to welcome others with unfailing kindness, respect and patience.

There was also an urgency about Terry that drew me to choose the Gospel reading from Luke for Terry's Requiem Mass. As Jesus and his disciples approach the gates of the town of Nain, they meet a funeral procession coming out. Walking behind the body of her son is his mother. Already a widow, she has now lost the hope of her life. Luke tells us that when the Lord saw her, "his heart went out to her". He raises the Son to life and gives him back to his mother, and the mourners break into a song, singing: God has shown his care for his people.

In the late 19th century, Don Bosco was pained to see so many young people at risk on the streets of Turin. He too was moved with compassion and reached out to them in friendship and acceptance. Following in his footsteps, Fr Terry brought the compassion of God to countless people - reaching out to heal, to forgive, and to support people in their need.

Cons 15: The Salesian's love is that of a father, brother and friend, able to draw out friendship in return. This is the loving kindness of Don Bosco.

During his time in Edinburgh, Fr Terry and his dog Tara became known and loved throughout the area - "the white-haired priest with the dog". Before that, Lundy, Sheba, Jason. He loved his dogs.

It was a shock when Terry was diagnosed with cancer in 1997. At the same time there were obvious signs his mental state was also deteriorating. So, it was with declining health that Fr Terry moved to Nazareth House, Bpnnyrigg, at the end of 1999, where he was to stay until his death.

We thank the Sisters and Staff, his good friend Tony Sutherland, his Salesian confreres, and his family for the loving care with which they surrounded Fr Terry in his final years. Terry died peacefully in the early hours of Monday, 7th November 2005.

A faithful Salesian and a good Priest, deeply spiritual, compassionate, dedicated. Throughout his life, I always saw Terry as a seeker, an enquirer. A lot went on inside, sometimes coming out in little gems of wisdom, or in quirky musings - "Will there be Guiness in heaven, do you think?" he would say. Please God there is, and may Terry, who radiated so much love and kindness around him, enter into the radiance of God's presence.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord.

Jim McGarry SDB

"Finally brethren, whatever is true whatever is honourable, whatever is just, what­ever is lovely whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, let this be the argument of your thoughts. Whatever you learned and received, and heard and saw in me, do and the God of peace will be with you."

I'm delighted to have been asked by Fr Brian to say a few words by way of memorial for Fr Jim Conway, whom I first got to know at Thornleigh when I was a student there in 1969-70. James always was and always will be for me the perfect evocation of what it was to be a Christian gentleman. The passage form the Phillipians which we so often read in the liturgy of Don Bosco's Mass applies almost without modification to the James so many of us got to know and love over so many years.

Jim was born in Brewel Co Kildare in April 1921, in an Ireland going through one of the most turbulent periods in its modem history. After the Easter rising of 1916 and the heavy handed British attempts to put down what was regarded as a stab in the back for an Empire locked in a life and death struggle on the Western Front, Ireland finally emerged from the War of Independence with a disputed treaty that divided North and South and more significantly engaged the south in a fratricidal civil war between those who supported the Treaty with Britain and the consequent reluctant acceptance of the Free State and the rebels who rejected what it regarded as the false compromise over the province of Ulster.

In this turbulent and violent society, Jim was born. One of the few stories Jim told me of his childhood which relates to this background was the his father who had been. a coachman for the local landlord, once spoke up against the hard men who wanted to bum out the big house. As a result, Jim's family were ostracised and isolated in a rural poverty that Jim's Mum seems to have found very difficult to bear. She had to become effectively both Father and mother of the family and to cope with not just the loss of a secure job but also the social stigma of having supported the old Anglo-Irish ruling class.

If anything marked Jim's character by contrast it was his longing for peace and harmony and his abhorrence of division. Jim was a man who was made for peace and who suffered almost personally the pain of division.

James discovered his Salesian vocation as a result of the sterling promo­tion of Don Bosco and the Salesian life round Ireland undertaken by the famous Fr Ciantar who tirelessly travelled the length and breadth of Ire­land showing the new Don Bosco film and enthusiastically promoting the new missionary college at Shrigley Park. Jim was a willing recruit and it was from Shrigley that he went to the novitiate at Beckford in August 1939, just before the outbreak of war, in the famous largest novitiate in the Province's history with 53 novices. Jim studied philosophy and theology and taught at Shrigley and finally at Blaisdon where he was ordained in 1950, the Holy Year.

His first appointment was to the staff of the Salesian College at Chertsey. James always said that he lost his heart to Chertsey and promised himself never to get attached to any place ever again. He lamented his leaving and took ages to settle to his new home at Thornleigh.

It's a bit like the famous incident of Don Bosco as a young boy when his pet blackbird died. He is supposed to have decided that he would never get attached to earthly things again - an impossible feat for a heart as loving as that of Don Bosco, so for James, always a sensitive and loving soul it was something he learned to live with and devote to so many youngsters who needed his love.

Jesus taught the disciples by putting a little child in the midst of them and saying "Unless you become like this little child you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven" and "Whoever welcomes one of these little ones in my name welcomes me." James both understood the call to spiritual childhood and even more realised the calling to welcome the little ones.

James spent thirty-two years of his priestly ministry at Thornleigh College Bolton. At times, it seemed, as if he had always been there. In his role as form teacher of 1 Beta, and later head of year one, he became an institu­tion that welcomed, supported, encouraged and educated generations of youngsters who, tutored by James, grew up to read and love the poetry and literature he loved. James delighted in the well turned phrase, the po­etic sparkle and the depth of feeling of poets and playwrights. He insisted on he highest standards of spelling, punctuation and expression. These were for him the delicacy of a human sensitivity to approaching another person.

His other great love was his love for nature and his extraordinary knowl­edge of the birds, a hobby he always maintained that Fr Hall had initiated and encouraged, gave James and his pupils endless joy.

Esther tells the story of him encouraging her fearful self to come outside during the summer storms at home to look at the beauty of the lightening and thunder. With his wonderful cultured anglo-irish accent, he was irre­sistible. But of course he had a wicked and mischievous sense of humour.

When Esther's Mum once sent her to the Butchers to buy a piece of steak tender enough for a priest. Jim asked her what her instructions were and having heard them told her solemnly to ask the butcher for a piece of steak tender enough for a priest without teeth. His beautiful accent and mis­chievous sense of humour made him a popular preacher and a wonderful friend.

His sense of humour livened even his class discipline. Arriving a little late for a lesson he heard one of the class loudmouth.s calling someone else 'a septic toe-rag'. James entered and without raising his voice quelled the turbulent crowd by asking the culprit to bring in a fully illustrated septic toe-rag to the next day's class.

At Bolton at weekends he served as an assistant priest in the parish at Godlbome and in his testament specially asked to be remembered there. James' vocation as a priest and particularly as a confessor was a funda­mental aspect of his Christian life. He always welcomed his penitents warmly and always managed to make them feel as if he appreciated and understood their difficulties and problems. James' understanding of the human condition and his unfailing gentleness made the superiors think that this was a man as Chaucer said 'to been an abbot able'.

In his last five years at Bolton, James was asked to take on the unenviable task of being the Rector of Thorleigh at a time of turbulence and change. He found this a veritable crucifixion and the deaths of several of the confr­eres and especially of Fr Joe Fairclough on Christmas day left James feeling very low and burdened with guilt.
With his release from Rectorship after 5 years, James began a totally differ­ent stage of life. Having been almost Benedictine in his stability at Thom­leigh for 32 years, he suddenly took up his 20 years of itinerant ministry. He ranged from Ushaw to Dublin, Glasgow, to Battersea helping with the student community but for Jim the highlight was to become the assistant priest in a tiny country parish in Byeimoor, Co Durham. Of all these Jim loved Byermoor best of all. The shepherd's crook which lies on his coffin was a precious token of his ministry there. While Fr Andrew Failey the parish priest was working for the bishops' conference in London, James shared the presbytery with Hild and Bede, Fr Andrew's two cats. In this ex-mining village Jim loved to spend each morning in the Primary school playground and his little parishioners returned his interest and his love. Even the other local children who didn't go to the Catholic school soon sought out this gentle priest who listened to them and showed them the wonders of nature.
James' last sustained period of ministry took place in Chertsey his first love where he spent from 1996 - 2003. Here once again his gentle humour and identification with the poor came to the fore.

One of the greatest of his devotees, of whom there were many among the women of the parish, was Mr Quigley the local tramp. Mr Quigley had been coming to the door looking of help for at least 25 years to my certain knowledge and he had an unfailing knack of annoying all and sundry. He would often arrive drunk and disorderly, and usually contrived to hold on to the bell on a Sunday afternoon just after lunch which was the only occasion when the confreres got a moment's peace and quiet. All of us suffered him and by turns fed him or turned him away. One confrere in a misguided attempt to put off Mr Quigley, once suggested that only Catholics should be coming for help to the priest's house door. I happened to be returning from a run when I witnessed with my own eyes and ears, Mr Quigley' s reaction to this un-ecumenical approach to charity. While he threw his sandwiches against St Joseph's Hall he was heard to shout "Keep your 'effing' papist sandwiches".

James took a rather more constructive line. He asked Quigley one day why he didn't get social security and apparently Mr Quigley in his var­ious troubles had no documents at all, not even a birth certificate, and hence he couldn't even begin to get any social security. James, bright to the last, suddenly decided to intervene and discovered that Quigley was born in Northern Ireland and James wrote a delightful missive to a couple of parish priests one of whom eventually replied with a baptismal certifi­cate. . . ergo Mr Quigley is now often seen at Chertsey station, a proud owner of mobile home courtesy of gentleman Jim.

For James the triumphant moment for his latter years was the wonderful celebration the family held at the Church where he said his first mass in 1950 when he returned to Ireland after his ordination. His Jubilee mass was a veritable triumph and accompanied by a piper, Fr James greeted all his family neighbours and friends. In a Ireland mercifully peaceful and prosperous and very different to the land of his birth James was feted and welcomed back. He loved it and genuinely appreciated the time and trouble and all the love of his family that that celebration represented.

James suffered from progressive ill health over these last years and I've been with him at several death bed scenes.

It was my privilege a week last Saturday to join Fr Brian and Fr Gerry after James had been admitted to the local hospital here at Frimley. He had collapsed in the gardens of the college and been rescued by the caretaker and Fr Laurence Martin who prayed with him while he waited for the ambulance. He had a massive brain haemorrhage and I was praying at his bedside when he breathed his last at about Midnight on Saturday last.

May he rest in peace.

Fr John Dickson SDB

Pat knew all about community living, he grew up in a loving family; the son of Joseph and Sheila Kenna and he had an older brother, Michel. The family was joined by Kevin, Margaret and Mary. Pat thought the world of his family and was especially proud of his nephews and nieces. The care and concern that Pat brought to so many people was the care and concern that he received as a child, he accepted this as the norm.

As he grew up, Pat became aware of the community that was the Church, a commumity that was part and parcel of Joe and Sheila's lives, a community they shared with their own children and grandchildren. It was a community that included the sisters at Farnborough Hill, the monks at Farnborough Abbey and, of course, the Salesian Family of Farnborough. Through the example of his family, and the Salesian Family, Pat was to embark on a community journey that was to take him across the country and the globe, in a quest to make the Gospel values and the teaching of Jesus more accessible and realistic. Pat didn't just talk about the Good News, he actually walked the walk!

He enjoyed Salesian life in many communities, Shrigley, Farnborough, Dublin, Ushaw, Bootle, Blaisdon, Battersea, Liberia, California, Don Bosco Youth Centre, Bootle, India and finally Chertsey.

As he friend and former Rector, Sean Murray said, 'Pat was able to pack into 49 short years more than most people get into 70'! Pat had vitality and zest for life, his community of friends meant the world to him. He had a genuine concern, interest and care for young people. His work in schools, and in the youth service, saw him going that extra mile, to give young people the courage and strength to move forward in life. In his own unique way, Pat acted as an advocate and, more importantly, a real friend of the young.

As a historian, Pat had a reat memory for facts, places and most importantly, people. He could tell you who was on Week 3 of Blaisdon Camp 1985; he emembered birthdays and loved to record events for posterity on his ever popular camera.

Pat saw it as his responsibility to promote Salesian hospitality. That meant welcoming the stranger, standing in solidarity with those who were presecuted and oppressed. It was this awareness that led him to work for a short time in Liberia and India. We were all enthralled and moved by his stories of the street children or the effects of the Tsunami. As someone said to me, 'Fr Pat brought the reality of that disaster into our school in a way that our children could comprehend and then do something about it'. There was something deeper here, however, Pat had a real desire to help people and make their lives better.

Pat would often remind us that he never took a holiday, he never really travelled! However when we were students, he was the only one to carry his passport with him, so that he could go off at a moments notice! Pat journeyed with so many people and always made sure that he kept in touch with his family and even wider circle fof friends. So many of us have journeyed with him, privileged to have shared a car, minibus, train or plane with him. Like the two disciples on the road to Emmaus we have all shared a wonderful friendship together.

Pat we do not need to text you or phone you; you are a prayer and a memory away. Thank you for those memories; they will keep you alive for us today, and every day.

Fr Gerry O'Shaughnessy SDB

Fr Ainsworth was born on 5th May 1908, in Bolton. He came from a strong Catholic family. Before the First World War the family went to America, in search of a new life, his mother died there and the family returned to England in 1913 on the Mauretania.

After working at a large engineering works in Gorton, he applied to join the Salesians. He began his novitiate, in Oxford, in 1931, and was professed in September 1932. His first responsibility was as assistant to the Aspirants in Cowley. In 1934, he was sent to teach in Malta. While he was on the boat to Malta his father died, he was greeted with this news as he arrived in Malta. In 1937 he returned to England to study Theology in Blasidon where he was ordained priest in 1941. He first worked in Battersea, on the Salesian Press. In 1943 he was appointed Provincial Secretary, a responsibility which lasted 9 years. The provincial, Fr Couche relied very heavily on Fr Ainsworth and these were precious years, they gave him an valuable insight into the workings of religious life.

In 1952 he became rector of the theological students at Beckford, in Gloucestershire and oversaw the move to Melchet Court in 1954. In 1956 he was appointed Rector in Bolton. In 1957 he became Provincial Delegate in South Africa.

In 1966 Fr Ainsworth was sent to Australia to work with the students and to edit the Salesian Bulletin. Fr Ian Murdoch, who later became provincial in Australia, wrote as follows to Fr Ainsworth many years later: 'This is just to say thank you so much for your encouraging and positive words, and also for the wisdom and bedrock humanity you brought with you to Lysterfield when I was there in 1967 and 1968, precious qualities in any age, no matter how enlightened it considers itself to be, and in any form of living out the religious life, perhaps the most important lesson anyone has ever taught me.'

Fr Ainsworth returned to South Africa again, as Provincial Delegate, in 1969, where he worked until 1974. In 1974 he returned to Bolton and was editor of the Salesian Bulletin until 1983. Until a few years before he died Fr Ainsworth regularly said Sunday Mass at Mount St Joseph's Convent and treasured his links with the Sisters of the Cross and Passion. Fr Ainsworth's contribution to the life of the province is best expressed in the words of Fr Martin McPake, the Regional Superior, in a letter to Fr Ainsworth in 1991 on the occasion of his Golden Jubilee: 'I have a fair knowledge of the history of the province, and on that scene, I see you as a significant and happy and healthy influence for more than half of the province's lifetime. I'm glad I knew you, I have always been touched by your kindness, and I am proud to have benefited from your friendship.'

Fr Ainsworth's vocation was also that of a writer, in the best and truest sense of the word. He just had to write. He wrote every day. He kept his diary until his 97th birthday. His diary describes him, it charts his every day, his concerns, the things he loved, but above all the people he met, every visitor is recorded there and their kindness noted. Fr Ainsworth understood the power of the written word. His best-known book is St John Bosco, The Priest, the Man, the Times.

What kind of man was Fr Ainsworth? He was a man of great encouragement. His praise was never vague; he was always precise in attribution. This uncanny ability of encouragement meant that he made friends instantly and easily. Another virtue was his gift of wonder. In his last days he never ceased to marvel that so much should be done for him, a new bed, a constant stream of nurses, and visits from his community. Why do they bother with me? he would say, surely there are people younger than me who need attention. Fr Ainsworth's 97th birthday was on May 5th. He loved to celebrate and St Joseph's has such a wonderful tradition of celebration, he was in his element. He said the grace, he made a speech, he even invited Brother Chris, who was 96 at the time, to join him in a song. They gave a moving rendition of 'Pack up your troubles'.

The difficult decision to move Fr Ainsworth from St Joseph's to Nazareth House was only made possible by the knowledge that he would be in the best of hands, and so he was. On June 5th, after only a few weeks in Nazareth House, he peacefully died.

For those of us who were privileged to enjoy his friendship, let us be consoled by the words of St Francis de Sales:

Friendships begun in this world will be taken up again, never to be broken off.

John Thomson was born at Hammersmith, London, on 1st December 1914. His mother was French, and his Father, a pharmacist, was Scottish. He attended the Salesian College, Battersea and after leaving, spent a year as a student of medicine at Guy's hospital in London. However, the call to religious life was stronger, and he entered the Salesian Novitiate at Oxford in September 1933.

John made his First Profession as a Salesian on 8th September 1934 and spent the next two years as a Philosophy student, before going to teach at Chert­sey for three years. In 1939, he went to Blaisdon to complete his Theological studies, and was Ordained there on 25th July 1943.

After Ordination, John became a teacher of Biology at Thornleigh College, Bolton for a total of twenty-one years. He was an excellent teacher and made a deep impression on his students, some of whom became good, long-term friends. Although small in stature, he was noted for his energy, enthusiasm and hard work. He was constantly cheerful and always willing to help any­one.

In 1965, John moved to Blaisdon as the bursar, but only stayed a year. In 1966 he went to Farnborough and taught his beloved Biology for a further fourteen years, including four years as the Deputy-Head in the school. Once again he was noted for the excellence of his teaching and his dedication to the boys. He retired in 1981, but remained in Farnborough helping out in the Biology de­partment, and assisting the Bursar in catering for the needs of the community.

Although he spent most of his Salesian life as a teacher, John was also a prayer­ful and devoted priest, who ministered to the boys, to the people of the local parishes and to anyone he saw in need of comfort. He was very close to his family, and very interested and involved in their lives and progress. Over the years, much of his spare time was taken up collecting and dispatching medi­cal supplies for the clinics and hospitals of the Salesian Mission in Liberia. He also sent out crates of toys, books, football kits and other items for the chil­dren. He continued this work up to the time when he was unable to move about unaided.

After four hip-replacement operations, John gradually became increasingly physically disabled, and moved around the new St John Bosco house in both a wheelchair and a walking frame. His mind was still active, and right to the end he insisted on helping to prepare the vegetables for the community meals.

Having celebrated his ninetieth birthday in the presence of both his commu­nity and his family, John's health began to deteriorate. He was eventually moved to the hospital in Frimley, and he died there, peacefully, on 10th Jan­uary 2005. One of his Salesian colleagues, who lived with him in community, wrote: "In the years that I lived in community with Fr John, I came to appre­ciate his spirit more deeply. We all knew, as pupils and staff, how tremendous a worker he was. But in living with him, I came to understand that for him, work was an expression of how to be of service".

May God reward Fr John's years of service with the joy and peace of eternal life.

Fr Brian McGraw SDB

George's story begins with his birth in Pemberton, Wigan on May 29th 1911. His father was an engineer in the mining industry. George was always proud to tell us that his father had invented some machinery which was used in the mines. While he was still young the family moved to Clayton-le Moor, where he went to school. His father died when he was only 11 years old. George started work early in life, in a foundry where he earned 12 shillings a week. As a boy he was an altar server in the local church. In his late teens, he and his friend, the young Christopher Gorton, joined the Knights of St Columba. Soon afterwards both young men decided to join the Salesians. That youthful impetus of generosity lasted both their long lives, in fact the youthful 96-year-old Chris is still alive as I write these words.

George was ordained in July 1946 at Blaisdon. He spent some time teaching at Burwash. He then became secretary to the Rector of Battersea. He worked in several houses, including Shrigley and Cowley, For some years he was chaplain to the Salesian Sisters at Henley. in 1986, after sixteen years at our provincial house in Oxford, he finally came to Bolton, where he continued his work on covenants. In 1998 he became a founder member of the new house of St Joseph's in Bolton.

I cannot exaggerate the contribution Saint Joseph's made to his happiness in the last years of his life. Our Salesian provision for our mature confreres is something truly wonderful. George had a high regard for all who looked after him in Saint Josephs, and he never forgot those who had looked after him at Thornleigh. On a Saturday, when he came to Thornleigh for lunch, he would head straight for the kitchen to chat to the cook.

George always spoke warmly of his family, and would want us today to thank God for the blessing of being born into a good Christian family in Wigan. a significant blessing that has lasted his lifetime. A family that has always been there for him. I could not adequately express the love his family has shown George, a gift so precious in his life.

A few months before he died George was offered a place in Hazelbrook Nursing Home in Horwich, not far from Bolton. It describes itself as a Christian nursing home, and rightly so. When you visit the home you sense the Christian spirit which permeates the atmosphere. The Salesian community and George's family are so grateful to the staff at Hazelbrook for all the love and attention they showed George in the last weeks of his life.

But what kind of person was George? George was basically a very shy person. He always kept himself in the background. Look at any of the group photographs around St Joseph's and you will see that he is missing, having already slipped away or, unless otherwise instructed, is at the back of the group. The one exception is when he once asked Brother Michael to take his photograph. We were all taken aback when George appeared in cassock, complete with wings, biretta and carrying his breviary! He requested that the picture be taken in front of Our Lady's statue on the front lawn. Our Lady would have to feature somewhere.

I had the great privilege to be by the bedside of George, with his niece Vivien, and Sylvia when he died. Dying is a time of intimacy and discovery. All the cherished conventions of defensive living are swept away as we face our Maker. Visiting someone who is dying is not an act of kindness, but a privilege. Over the last few days of his life I was privileged to see the love his nieces Vivien and Christine had for their Uncle, and when you see someone loved you catch a glimpse of the real person they love.

When someone dies, 'Life is changed not ended." It may be difficult to come to terms with that change, but we have the memories.

Tony Bailey SDB

Paul Golding was born in Streatham, South London in 1920 and was baptised at the English Martyrs church there. He was sent to the Salesian College in Battersea in 1931 as a small boy. He was intelligent and hardworking and one of the first to benefit from the London County Council's scholarships to Catholic schools. Paul enjoyed the school life at Battersea and decided to join the Salesians at the end of his schooling. But Paul's young life was clouded by a dark shadow, something he never found it easy to talk about: his father left the family and Paul carried that wound for all his life.

Paul's early life as a Salesian was spent in the usual training: novitiate at Beckford, then philosophy at Cowley, followed by practical training at Cowley. Paul then spent six years' teaching at Blaisdon while dealing with a major family crisis.

Paul's Salesian life was disrupted by the war. During the blitz his Mum's fragile mental health gave way and Paul was forced to take responsibility for her and in fact she came to live closer to the Salesians at Battersea. Paul who was a very private person found this experience intensely difficult. Paul looked after his Mum until she died in 1958.
He took his final vows in 1946 at the end of the war and began his theology at Shrigley then at Blaisdon and was ordained Priest in 1950.

Paul spent the next 49 years in our community at Chertsey. He made an immense contribution to the school and apostolate of the community over all those years. He taught science in the school for 35 years and was deputy head master for the last 20. Upon retiring in 1985 he took on the role of community bursar till he finally moved from Chertsey to Farnborough in the year 2000.

Paul seemed to become almost the obverse of the father he had hardly known. He was magnificently consistent and thorough. His notices giving out the extra cover periods were all handwritten and carefully underlined. He worked tirelessly as convent chaplain at the Hospitallers of the Sacred Heart at Addlestone for more than 40 years and would set off on his bicycle or walk in the snow to be there to say Mass for them before beginning his day in school. He also organised the Parish SVP and was chaplain to SVP groups across the deanery. His work for the Old People's Christmas party at Chertsey was proverbial. Parcels and party became Fr Golding's hallmark and everybody, pupils and teachers alike, were invited to help. He was a powerful cyclist and undertook cycle trips during the school holidays as far away as the Rhineland and Bavaria. Paul had strength of character and a big heart that was sometimes hidden by his gruff manner, but underneath there was a warmth and devotion that he found much easier to show to his many female friends.

Fr Phil Spratt, a returned missionary from India, who was the curate in the parish at Chertsey, made one of the most moving discoveries of Paul's later life. He came to Paul one day to say that he thought he might have discovered a relation of Paul's who lived in the parish: a lady who would eventually be known to all as Auntie Golding. Paul looked in on her every day and was devoted to her care and she offered Paul some of the family connection that he had missed so much as a youngster. They were inveterate scrabble players and Paul's expert eye for the crossword made beating him at scrabble an unusual event.

Paul's latter years were marked by mobility problems. His hips began to give him increasing pain and his limp became more and more pronounced. However he endured the pain and lack of mobility with great stoicism. After the transfer from Highfield House, the Salesian comununity moved into the sisters' house at Eastworth Road. Here Paul enjoyed the company of sisters Kathleen and Mary Louise, who could be prevailed upon to play him at scrabble.

Paul found moving from Chertsey after nearly 50 years extremely difficult. His health had declined though to the point where he needed nursing care and first here at St John Bosco house and later at Nazareth House he found the care and support that he needed.

Paul was a voracious reader all his life. In his latter years one of his friends who worked at Chertsey library would arrive every Friday evening with his latest batch of books to read. The last two books that he asked for, and Fr John Gilheney got him, were Agatha Christie's ' ... And Then There Were None' and 'Inspector Trent's Last Case'.

Paul has now gone to his reward. His life was definitely marked by the shadow of suffering and the cross. Every day Paul celebrated that mystery of faith. His life of consistent and persevering service of young and old people, and his intelligent determination to serve the Lord till the end, mark him as a good and faithful servant of Jesus, and a true son of Don Bosco.

Paul passed away peacefully on the afternoon of 5th September 2004.

May he rest in peace.