Irene Anderson MBE. and My Friend Moira...

My that's an unusual sight to see Moira with a mug in her hand and not a glass - very unexpected ! Even more unusual, me with a glass ! I don't drink ...
Moira, at my right shoulder, she was only 5 foot nought whereas I'm 5' 5 "
Moira holding Louis - aww, he was only about 6 weeks old at the time...


Hi Folks,



This entry is primarily about a Scotswoman called Irene Anderson, she moved into a care home around 18 months ago. She was never one to brag about her past, so no doubt there were many residents and nursing staff who didn't know the 88 year old's story until recently.

Last weekend that changed when she received a special visit from seven "girls" who had grown up in Ghana. Now in their 40s and living and working in the U.K. they are former pupils of the prestigious Aburi Girls Secondary School and they're planning a special thanksgiving service for Irene during a prizewinning ceremony there next April.

Irene Anderson started out as a Geography Teacher, then trained as a Missionary in Edinburgh and moved to the West African country in 1948. Soon after, she became Headmistress of the then recently founded boarding school, which now enrols 1300 girls a year. Instrumental in building its excellent reputation. Irene was awarded an MBE for her services to teaching. She remained at the school for 17 years until her retirement in 1970, when she returned to Scotland.

By all accounts, Irene has continued to be an inspiration to the pupils who have gone on to forge successful careers in countries around the world. And now this particular group plan to raise funds to refurbish the school lodgings - named Anderson House in Irene's honour. So no matter how humble Irene may be, her praises will continue to be sung by the children of Ghana for a long time to come.

I found the foregoing story in among some **Francis Gay** stories in the 'Sunday Post' newspaper, it seems such a pity that her story is printed in what would be considered to be ' just a local paper' instead of in amongst the really gutsy and some would say 'more important' Daily papers.

** Francis Gay ** 'is or was' a writer and I'm not too sure whether or not 'he or she' is still alive though I doubt it, the column has been going since I was young. It is the name of someone who, to my knowledge has been telling 'feel good' stories with the emphasis on good, since I was first able to look at the Sunday Post Newspaper. So, I guess thinking about it he can't still be the same person really. There are Friendship books printed in time for the 1st of January every year. There are always passages printed for every day of the year - I have been more or less buying one for the last goodness knows how many years and I usually pass them into a charity shop when I have finished with them.

There was a bit of a coincidence concerning the Friendship Book last year however, my very good friend died in May this year after breast cancer - which she recovered from and which subsequently developed into bone and liver cancer. Moira, a life-long friend wasn't much of a reader of books but when I was looking for something to take to the hospital to keep her going, I picked up this years Friendship Book and on the day I took it to her there was a story in the book which I recognized as being very familiar to me. It was the story of the Cherokee chief and his Grandson. Which is on my side-bar and was always shown as my signature on another site that I have been involved with for some time.

It was as though the wee book was meant for Moira. I took it to her that afternoon and everytime we visited her the Friendship book was beside her and because it was full of wee stories and not long passages she read quite a bit of the book.

Well, there's not much to laugh about or jokes in this blog entry so I will end it with a rhyme instead.

Little shafts of sunshine, Heralding the dawn,
Little sparkling dewdrops, glistening on the lawn,
A new day is beginning, So give it of your best,
Live so that the sunset, finds you worthy of your rest.




Cheers, from the land of the Tartan, Love Kate xxx.