The creation of life, celebrations commence, each birth said to be a blessing. Words spoken, sentences formed, pages emerge, chapters build. Success, grief, love and laughter all contained within the pathways we walk; sometimes forced, sometimes chosen. Our story books get created, thicknesses differ, there’s always an end. Only one word ever describes that end and that’s called death. This then follows with RIP, forever in our hearts, always in our thoughts, now in heaven an angel of God, you will be missed and until we meet again. If today I was allowed to be a verse or chapter in your story book, it would read like this. Once upon a time, at Wattville Cottage. The joys of when you were born. The family filled with happiness, excitement and pride. Everybody smiling, guessing as to who you looked like. We all wanted to name you; your Dad won in the end and story of Rebekah commenced. The most beautiful of children, gentle and sweet. With only a few years between us I still have memories of you in your Bibi’s arms, kissing and cuddling you. Breaking the rules she would place you in the bed between us to keep you close. Determined to make you strong and independent she started your potty training without a potty when you were only days old. She would wake you up in the night, sit herself at the end of the bed, hold you over newspaper placed on the floor. Disturbed and sat up in bed I’d watch you both from behind listening to mum making the sounds of water. You never complained and your Bibi never got tired, it was the start of a building strength, an indication of your achievements to come. Your Bibi was preparing you for life ahead, it took you less than a year to succeed in stop wearing a nappy; you tallied it with the remarkable skill of walking. Memories of you running around, smiling, dancing, singing. The heart sinking feeling we all felt the day you escaped Wattville Cottage with your brother whilst both still dressed in your pyjamas, being found at Wattville Road Post Office at the sweet section; to this day we laugh. I’d carry you on my hip, raise you up and down on my ankles, acting as a ride for you. As you grew I’d play the photographer and you’d always agree to pose as the model. You would play so joyfully with all the many children who came round to your grandparents house; sounds of laughter increased. People cross, pathways change, distances and influences vary. Peaks rise and fall but there’s always a cause, sometimes named obstructions. Regardless of any of these love and thoughts remain, successes continue. Your inner strength increased, rather empowering, you resembled your Bibi as she too always got back up and miraculously managed to walk like no other was able. Your faith in God was strong, your Bibi left a prayer; we now call it mum’s prayer. Her exact words I will now read to you. Take the prayer with you so that you’re not alone during your journey to God. May your pathways be filled with flowers as we tried to fill mum’s when she left. Read the words back over us all with Mum and Dad who will be awaiting you with open arms and never ending smiles. My story book continues as I stamp todays page as the last page in your book. Close your book with pride, head held high, as you have been been chosen to grow the wings of an angel, a place in heaven, back in the arms of your Bibi and Abbha. I feel so blessed and grateful to you for leaving me your beautiful image. The image that we will take comfort from and remember you for the happiness and smiles you gave us in life, memories that you have left until we meet again. Mum’s Prayer I speak out loud for you as I imagine you walking pathways covered in flowers, birds and angels guiding you towards the light of God. The prayer reads like this. ‘Shukar hai khuda Baap tera lakh lakh vaari shukar hai aaj, Khuda Baap tu sabh kuch zaaman, daan, taan, sabkush saanu dinna Saade alaad nu vi hydaath de Ehna nu vi samjha, air mohre ho ke kamm karan, Tu sucha jinda Khuda ya Sareyan diyan fariyadan, saade dilan vich vasdiya Assi tere ghar te aunde Tu saade te haath, barkat da haath rak, bachiyan te vi saade te Saare assin muhre ho ke duaa karange, Tha Meri shoti jehi prathna sunn te kabool kar Khudavand, Jassu Masih de na vich Ameen ! Amen !’ The above chapter written with love by your Sonn Buah (Aunt) on 26/02/23. Saddened that you have left so soon and that you will now greet me in heaven. THE END ……………🙏🙏 ❤️ 🌻💐🌸🌹