There are some Sisters of Compassion staying with us at the moment.  Next door, at The Home of Compassion they are having their centennial celebrations this weekend.

When I was in jail and read about Mother Aubert in 'Never Let Go' What a stubborn-  battler for the disadvantaged and poor. It changed my life…and so by some roll of the dice I ended up next door.

December 1999 Sister Loyola came from The Home of Compassion, “Bruce a small group of us Sisters are coming over in the morning…we have something to tell you.”

“What's it about”? I replied.

“We'll tell you in the morning,” she said.

Sure enough they arrived with the dawn chorus…freshly out of bed without my wake-up-coffee…I joined Sisters Loyola, Sister Ann Marie and Sister Josephine we had karakia (prayer)…me, a little anxious as I still didn't know what it was about.

“We have been watching you all these years and we have decided to forgive you of the dept. “…So you can get on with your dream,” they added.

It was the complete unexpected suddenness of it all…(Churches have a reputation of taking land off the Maori, not giving it) a huge weight was taken off my soul…it left me legless…I was barely able to stand…I was also unable to speak for fear of crying…the Relief…the Joy and Thankfulness was over-whelming.

It was a real big gesture because they were about to close their hospital as the running costs were out of reach.

I taken on the dept alone…I was half-hoping, even half expecting someone to step forward to share the burden but there was no-one…the idea of setting the land free from private ownership…replanting the original forest to bring back the birds…building a Noho Kainga (Maori Village) was mine, so I had made my bed…many good people came forward for the reforestation but no-one to share the dept of buying the whenua and paying the rates…at it's worst it was $5000 a month…a lot of money for me to find from the eighties. By some kind of miracle and a lot of hard work, I never missed a payment.

I believe Mother Aubert must have known my back had given up and I was unable to continue with the payments much longer that's why she sent her Sisters that day.

Dean Baigent-Mercer

The tongue of Rawene and in fact the extensive Hokianga Harbour is by and large fringed with manawa, the native mangrove.

I often wander down to my favourite place: the boardwalked Rawene Mangrove Walk which weaves through the oldest mangroves/manawa I have ever seen (some trunks would be 70cm thru).

I've adopted this little area and visit at different levels of the tides.

It's a very shy place, and I'm curious about its secrets. So far they've given me great joy.

I listen to the snapping shrimps, watch the crabs scuttle down holes and white-faced herons stab into the mud on a low tide. I lay on my tummy actoss a small bridge and watch the young mullet leave swirling sediment trails behind them.

I've seen graceful eels the size of small chopsticks.

Today something big was up. There was a flock of white-faced herons - around 40 or so - filling the air with their throaty croakings looking sinister in the sky near the shitponds. Normally they're in pairs of solitairy but they were partying or warning about the end of the world or something...

1st April 2007

Tenakoe Hinerangi…We are still caught up in the up-draught of your hui…this gentle eddy is powered by the will of people coming together to soar…innocence is a powerful force.

The highlight for me is watching the faces of all those gathered as they threaded on everyone's Prayer Flags and watching them as their flags were hoisted high and started flapping the breeze.

All sending out their different wishes…from all cultures all creeds…together with The Wind chimes the messages of hope…longsuffering…joy…peace…love…unselfishness were vibrating out every time each flag whipped…wind horses carrying important messages far and wide and forming part of the consciousness.

Last night I had a visitor…she had just came from her art graduation. In the moon-light she walked under the prayer flags…they were flapping in the wind. The chimes were playing their special music…together with the huge rocks and Pou Whenua she said it was as if she was transported high up in The Himalayas

I'm sure The Dalai Lama won't mind.

Tenakoe e taku tama Sean…Thanks for your e-mail and kind words.

All of my children are so different and see the top of the mountain from their view. Your view is similar to mine in that we maori lost much in the mix.

This negative control is manipulated by so very few…to throw another negative force against it would result in much chaos. Whereas, if we meet the negativity with a positive force then there is a strong chance of harmony.

Wairua is the balance of the opposites…we need this listen hard to our babies they are often the balancers…some, like your/our Ruka is one of those…she was sent to us.

Love you my son.

Tenakoe Dean…love your story The Fuzz and Mrs Sheppard on Guest Book.

For most Marae you can only be Tangata Whenua by toto (blood descendants) …a woman buries the whenua of her baby on her Marae claiming ‘tangata whenua status’ (and security) for her child…whangai (adopted) don’t usually have the same status as toto.

However they do for me as I am a whangai and feel deeply ‘the not having quite made it’ dilemma of a whangai…for me the whangai has the same status as toto.

Trouble is…there are those on the Toto list who make little or no contribution to their Marae…so for me another principal kicks in ‘The Mana belongs to those who stoke the fire’

You Dean have a special place here…your knowledge and passion set in place important principals for our native reforestation…our outdoor cathedral.