"Such sweet joy and consolation"

Easter Sunday morning 1991:  Ali with Richard McIlkenny

30 years ago, on Easter Sunday morning (31 March) 1991, Ali became a Catholic after a journey of faith that she described as "long and tortuous." 

When we arrived early at the Church of St John Payne, Greenstead, Colchester, Ali was feeling very nervous, but said afterwards that her nerves suddenly disappeared when she had the surprise and "overwhelming joy" of seeing someone she had not anticipated seeing on that day: Richard McIlkenny, who was  one of the "Birmingham Six,"  and spent more than 16 years in prison after being wrongly convicted of an IRA pub bombing that killed 21 people and injured 182. He and the other five wrongly imprisoned men, had had their convictions overturned and gained their freedom just two weeks earlier on 14 March 1991. 

Ali got to know Richard in 1987-88, after she wrote in response to a letter of his, published in a newspaper, in which he had said that while he was unjustly imprisoned, the injustice against him did not compare with the injustice against the unborn whose lives are taken by abortion. They then corresponded frequently and Ali met Richard several times in prison.  Ali had told him that she was being received into the Church that morning, but had no expectation whatsoever that he would turn up - an extraordinary act of generosity on his first Easter of freedom since 1974. 

Ali with Richard and friends Brian Collins (left) and Ray McGuinness

The next day Ali wrote about her reception into the Church on that Easter Sunday morning, when she was confirmed and made her First Holy Communion:

"The service itself I remember clearly, but I was in a kind of daze.  I recall being so near Jesus my prayers stopped using words and became simply a looking at and adoring of Jesus.

When I was confirmed I felt somehow that I was nothing but a soul (rather a devastating transformation for one who only a few years ago believed she had been conceived without a soul). I thought of it maybe like when [a priest] gives a blessing, but a blessing the touch of which is permanently imprinted upon one's soul, giving it a "character" which cannot be effaced....

Now I should go on to describe taking communion, but I find that just as I need words most they desert me! Maybe there are no words because it's beyond words, beyond feelings, maybe even beyond knowledge as such.  Sometimes thanks seem inadequate even for earthly gifts - how much more so for this ultimate gift.  As in Lourdes, maybe the closest I can get is to explain that I was no longer praying but rather I became a prayer....

I am a Catholic now; such sweet joy and consolation....."

Easter Sunday morning (4 April) 2021

The most joyful day

Ali at Boars Hill, Oxford, March 1991

Nine days before she was received into the Church at Easter 1991,  Ali made her her first confession - while on an 8-day retreat at the Carmelite Priory in Boars Hill, Oxford.  

On the way to Oxford, on 17 March 1991,  Ali developed a tummy ache, which persisted during the week, at times causing acute pain.  It was a pain that she then had for the rest of her life, the cause of which was never properly established even after various tests and surgical explorations.  The assumption was that it was referred pain from her spine,  and it became more severe and debilitating as the years passed.

On that evening of 22 March 1991 Ali wrote:

"This has been such a joyful day.  Probably the most joyful of my whole life - because I have been set free from my sins...

As the priest said the words of absolution I felt myself being literally "filled with grace."  My body has had pain this last week, but now my soul has been set free I find myself quite happy to accept it and whatever consequence may come from it.  I feel it is my gift to [Ali mentioned three people for whom she was particularly offering up her suffering].  It is good to be able to give when I have  received so much that I really understood today the meaning of 'my cup runneth over'.

Ali at Boars Hill, Oxford, March 1991

22 March 2021

22 March 2021

First birthday in India

Ongole, India: 8 January 2001

Ali's first birthday in India was on this day 20 years ago.   In the previous 2-3 years we had been raising funds to construct a home for disabled girls in Ongole, Andhra Pradesh, that would be named after Ali - the Alison Davis Home for Disabled Children.

The children were excited that "Mummy Alison" would be with them for her birthday, and that the festivities for the opening of their new home would be on this day.  The children had been practising dances, songs and dramas for many weeks, and it was a joyful climax to all their preparations.  In truth, Ali found the focus on her somewhat overwhelming, but was happy that the celebrations brought so much joy to the children.  

January 2001: Ali with some of the residents of the new home

Ali and I had happy visits to India each January until 2006, monitoring the projects funded by the charity we had founded, Enable (Working in India).  Shortly after the 2006 visit we discovered that the Director of our partner organisation in India had embezzled a large sum of money. Rather than let us entrust the work for disabled children to others, he made it impossible for us to continue, and he abandoned the children we had been supporting.  It was heartbreaking for all involved in Enable, but especially for Ali.

January 2001: Ali with some of the girls from the Alison Davis Home

Ali was in England for the seven birthdays between 2007 and 2013.   She would have surely remembered "her children" on those birthdays -  because I cannot imagine there was any day of the year when she did not.

January 2001:  Ali was always surrounded by "her children."

January 2001:  Ali and the girls havng their hands dyed with henna

Alison Davis Home for Disabled Children opened on 8 January 2001

Seven

Two "seven year olds" - Ali and the delightful Maria Brennan (in March 1995)

Seven years ago today Ali passed to eternal life. 

Ali recognised the significance of numbers, in particular the number of perfection: seven. From the creation of the world in seven days in the Book of Genesis, through to the seven Churches addressed in the Book of Revelation, the Bible frequently highlights the number seven.  Catholic doctrine embraces such things as the seven virtues, seven deadly sins, seven corporal acts of mercy, seven spiritual acts of mercy, seven sorrows of the Mary, seven sacraments, seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. 

Ali often spoke of seven as being the perfect age for a child, an age at which, even as an adult with an incisive mind, engaged in serious pursuits, she aspired to live.  Her profound appreciation of what lay at the heart of Catholicism and the pro-life movement was, I believe, because she was able to be so very childlike.  Not childish - far from it.  But very childlike.

On the evening of Ali's death, Tuesday 13 December 2013,  I went to Mass and the Gospel reading for that day - the first Tuesday of Advent -  was so apt:

Filled with joy by the Holy Spirit, Jesus said:  'I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children.  Yes, Father, for that is what it pleased you to do.' (Luke 10: 21-22)

Ali accepted the truth that each and every unborn child is precious and deserves to be protected from harm, and that it is never acceptable to cause the death of people who feel life has nothing more to offer on account of suffering or old age or disability, because she rejected the foolishness of the so-called 'learned' and 'clever' people who say otherwise.   She was happier spending time with her young friend, Maria Brennan, than with the 'clever' people.  Ali accepted the totality of the teaching of the Catholic Church because she had the simplicity of a child to recognise and accept its truth.

I'm sure Ali enjoyed the story as much as Maria!

Many of Ali's friends recognised her simple, childlike spirit - how, even though at one moment she might be discussing the finer points of embryology and stem cell research, she could happily switch to talking about her favourite teddy bears, or tell stories about the family of wolves who lived in the garden, and also of an assortment of other nearby residents - Idris the dragon, Vincent the vole,  Clyde the crocodile, to name but a few.  She fitted more into a working day than I would hope to achieve in a week, yet she would have time for the 'silly' things in life when it truly did seem that she was just 'seven'.

On one such occasion, in October 1989, Ali was quiet for a while and I asked what was on her mind. I'm grateful for having recorded the conversation:

"A strange thought.  God is younger than we are.  We only grow old because we have sinned."

-  How do you mean?  "He doesn't grow old."

- How have we sinned?  "We separated ourselves from eternal innocence.  Innocence doesn't get bored whereas as we get old, we get bored.  We lose wonder of things.  Like, we aren't surprised that leopards have spots - it's just a 'fact' - but a child is full of wonder that any leopard has spots or that an elephant has a trunk, etc.

"God is perpetual innocence which is love so he never gets tired of telling the sun to rise again every day or the moon to rise.  He doesn't get bored of telling them:  every day it's new.

"We feel old and experienced but spring is young.  It's a statement of perpetual innocence.  So it's younger than we are. Like, every blade of grass he makes, God kind of says, 'Why didn't I think of that before?' like it's new, like you can read the same story 100 times to a child.  We [i.e., adults] can brush past a field without noticing.

"If God thinks that about each blade of grass, imagine what he thinks about each person."

At a different time, also in 1989, Ali spoke of an occasion when she was about seven.

"I can remember being at home in bed - I was ill quite a lot - and everybody was out and I was just looking out the window and I kept saying, I wanted to know what forever and ever was.  And I kind of got a glimpse of eternity just as I was saying the words and asking Jesus.  I was afraid of "forever and ever" because it seemed the most terrifying concept, which I suppose at that age it is... I just felt that "forever and ever" would be bearable if Jesus was there."

Ali has a better appreciation now of "forever and ever."  

We don't have a true understanding of the requirements of the present moment if we neglect a childlike contemplation of "forever and ever."  Even in the midst of great suffering and distress Ali was able to appreciate the present moment, with the simplicity of a seven-year old, because she recognised the calling to share eternity with "perpetual innocence" and the preparation this requires of us.

Ali with her good friends, Mary (left) and Chris Brennan (hidden behind Ali)  and some of their family.

A happy day

22 March 1990 - Ali on the Isle of Wight with Pooh Bear (right) and Linden Lee (left)

On this day 30 years ago, Ali and I went for the day to the Isle of Wight.  I think it was our only visit to the island and it was an exceptionally happy day for Ali.

Just over a year later she would be received into the Catholic Church, but at that time Ali felt totally unwelcome in and excluded from the Church.  We didn't go to Church as she felt there was no place for her.  Ali often said she wished there were in Churches a "leper place" - where the lepers would be tolerated - where she could sit, if not welcome at least not shunned.

On the Isle of Wight we found ourselves passing Quarr Abbey, and for the first time in some months Ali entered a Catholic Church, though with some trepidation.  We arrived a little late (perhaps helpfully late) for Vespers.  Ali wrote to  me later that day:

"We were late (not by accident, I think) and no one noticed us at all.  In a funny way I felt as relaxed as if I had found a spiritual "leper place" where I could be unnoticed and easily, happily with Mama and Jesus - cradled, loved, accepted, really who I am. You being by my side bore me to Mama and Jesus.  You took me to the place and "carried" me in.  I felt fully alive...It was a special present just for today.  It's not yet time for the Church to accept me or learn to love my brokenness.  We must await that in patient hope." 

The age of retirement

In the earlier years of Ali's employment for SPUC - about 1991.

Today, on her 65th birthday, Ali would have reached retirement age and qualified for her state pension.  For most of her working years, Ali was employed by the Society for the Protection of Unborn Children (SPUC), defending the right to life of the most vulnerable from conception until natural death.  Whether or not Ali would have continued in paid employment, had she lived until now, it is not possible to believe that she would have ever ended her efforts to defend the most vulnerable.

Ali's pro-life work was achieved at much personal cost. She could not help but be deeply affected by having to read and hear on a daily basis how people like her were "better off dead" and thus denied the chance to even be born, or so "undignified" in their suffering with chronic disability or illness that they should have the option of ending their lives.  I don't think many people understood the damaging effect on Ali's own self-esteem, effectively to have to justify daily her own right to even exist in this world.

The walls of Ali's study varied over the years but the one constancy was that they were covered with photos of dear friends and loved ones, including many who were especially vulnerable.  The photos of these individuals helped to motivate Ali. I'm sure that if Ali had been merely concerned with establishing her own right to live she would not have been able to work for SPUC for as long as she did.  It was her love not only for God but also for others, which spurred her on to persevere in her very important work. 

Ali's study wall in Sept 1992

Ali's study wall in May 1995 

Feb 2003:  Ali in her study

Part of Ali's study wall in Nov-Dec 2006

Perpetual light for Ali.

Photo taken  on Thursday 5 December 2013 at 19:39

The main prayer for those who have died is for eternal rest, and that perpetual light may shine upon them.

During Ali's last nights her room was lighted with many candles and not with the harsh glare of electric light.

When Ali died at 08:40 on the morning of Tuesday 3 December 2013 a few of the candles were still alight.  They were left to burn out naturally in the following hours.

Early in the afternoon of Wednesday 4 December Ali's very good friend Amanda Lewin visited with her daughter Marie.  They went into Ali's bedroom, where Ali had died and from where her body had been taken to the undertakers earlier that morning.    It was observed that one candle, in a plastic container, still burned brightly, but it was about to burn itself out as the wax was depleted.

The three of us went into Dorchester to view Ali's body at the undertakers'.  Returning to the house 2-3 hours later, we again went into Ali's bedroom and were astonished that the candle was still burning. While a candle that is about to burn out might sometimes burn with a small flame for a short period before going out,  the candle was not flickering but burning brightly.  

Amanda and Marie returned to their home.  During the evening the candle continued to burn brightly though there appeared to be the bare minimal amount of wax, which didn't diminish.

When bought, the size of the candle would have been about 10cm x 6 cm.  Some months earlier my mother had given it to me and other candles, when she was having a clear out.  This candle was given to her when her most recent grandchild was born and she had already burned it for several hours.  I did not recall when I first lighted it - it was possibly from the evening of Sunday 1st December, but it was at least from about 4-5pm on Monday 2 December.    By the night of Wednesday 4 December it was lasting longer than would be expected.  At any rate, candles don't burn brightly for hours on a mere sliver of wax.

It was impossible for the candle to still be burning on the morning of Thursday 5 December - and yet the impossible happened.  It was very odd.  The photo, above, was taken at 19:39 on the Thursday evening: the candle was still burning brightly - impossibly! - with a sliver of wax which wasn't being burned away.

The candle continued to burn brightly when I went to bed after midnight.  It was extinguished by the time I arose the next (Friday) morning.

Amanda and Marie were as astonished as I was when they saw the wax-depleted candle burning brightly on the afternoon of Wednesday 4 December..  More than 30 hours later it was still burning brightly.

I am not proposing an explanation for this strange occurrence.  I am merely describing what happened.

May Ali be enjoying eternal rest in inexhaustible light.