As a
teenager, I decided that there were three things I wanted to do before I got
married.
·
Write a book
·
Live independently from my parents at least six
months to a year
·
Visit England.
On Saturday, 17th
September 1983, I took my first plane ride and my first visit outside of America. I was flying into Heathrow Airport, (Terminal
One) on my first trip to England to visit my pen-friend. She lived in Dagenham, and I was spending two
weeks with her.
Any infatuation I felt for
England, and the UK, turned into real love.
One of my first impressions was of a couple with his-and-her pink Mohawk
haircuts. I knew it was a couple,
because the girl had on a ankle-length Khaki skirt!
My friend—“Kay” and her father
shepherded me onto the tube, and we rode it across London to Dagenham Heathway. I don’t remember how long it took—as it was
thirty-two years ago. But “Kay’s” father
carried my suitcase from the tube station to their house on Standfield Road. During those two weeks with them I tasted
true British life. And perhaps it added
to the desire to come and live in the United Kingdom.
Here I am, 32 years later, living
about 20 miles from central London. I
feel more British every day. First I had
a settlement visa. Then I obtained a
British Driver’s license. In 2004 the
Home Office issued me a visa with indefinite leave to remain. In 2007 I gave my allegiance to Queen
Elizabeth and the United Kingdom, becoming a naturalised citizen of the United Kingdom. To add the final touches to my becoming
Anglicised, I was accepted into the Church of England in May 2009.
The local parish church I
regularly attend is St. Mary the Virgin.
The building dates back to about 1140 AD. Over the years the building has been added
to, as well as renovated. Yet it still
maintains all the classic beauty of wooden pews, oak columns, a pipe organs and
stained-glass windows.
This past summer, on the Sunday
of the annual Patronal festival, the children’s Sunday School created a
beautiful piece of artwork. It is made
of black, heavy-weight card and coloured gel paper. Each week it is displayed on the gates to the
Kedermister Family pew, so the sun can pour through the gel sheets like a true
stained glass window.
Back in 1983 I had no idea how I
would come to be a resident of this country, or when. But it was the first step of my dreams coming
true.
I suppose the only thing I lack
in being British is a British accent. Oh
well…my heart is British enough without the accent.
Serving Jesus, Author of our
faith,
Lady Helene
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