Written piece
At the Harbour-side.
Patricia Morissette
New Zealand
About this piece
A country becoming a Nation, through the eyes of two young children living by the 'harbour-side.'
From Strawberry garden patches comes the whiff of toast, the taste of sun ripe strawberries is on our lips, still we say, "I'm starving!"
Grandfather sings in the kitchen, the whistling kettle sings along. Breakfast is on the go for Seven and Eleven, that's us, my sister and me.
The sun shines early hot over the harbour-side where Norfolk palms are topped with their lion's tail crosses.
God is on watch.
We stand in clear water studded with sea anemones tugging softly on bare toes, starfish sleep on gold brown sand, wet and thick like Caramel fudge.
Mr. Hardy chugs his fishing boat out over the harbour bar, red beak gulls squark overhead.
It's compulsory 'Sun hat day' changing us into mushroom people. "Good girls, no sunburnt noses."
But it's April now on the harbour-side, red poppies garland the Norfolk palms and paper poppies on our lapels, we sit on cold canvas stools. shivering, waiting for the dawn. Up it comes from the grey sea.
Mayor Hutton calls, "Stand for the Nation Anthem." We stand and sing to God to save our gracious King.
God is still on watch.
Mayor Hutton commands, "Please remain standing for the New Zealand National Anthem. We remain standing. We children sing up, we know the words, adults hesitate and blush because they don't.
At night the fire crackles in the grate, orange sparks dance up the dark chimney.
"You sang up well today, you showed us who we are," Grandmother smiles, "God bless you both."
And he did, children of the Empire, now adults of the Commonwealth, once more down on the harbour-side on the shore where the sea anemones tug at our toes.
God is still on watch.