by Mavis Williams 02.MAY.08

When I came out of the Catholic Church last Sunday, a man said to me, “They killed an angel.” I said, “What you mean?” He said, “Miss Small, nah. She interfered with no one, she bothered no one, she was so gentle.” I thought he described it so well.{{more}}

I knew Lorna since I was fourteen years old. I got to know to her family when I went to the Girls’ High School. I got attached to them and kept close to them as a family.

She had a sixth sense, where she could tell you about things before they happened. We prayed together a lot, and the words that would come from the Holy Spirit would be amazing. The Lord spoke to her through words. We would call her a walking encyclopaedia. But believe me, there were lots of words that came, that she had never heard before. When that happened, we would go to the dictionary and delve in to get the meaning of the words. Depending on what we were praying for, we could have picked out the thread of what the Lord was saying to us from the meaning of the words.

I will miss her a lot. When we needed to pray for money to assist with the renovation of the Kingstown Methodist Church building, we would have a special prayer meeting on Thursday afternoons. She would bring words when we were praying for help; the last words were “I would pour bucketsful on your desert”; we knew that the Lord would supply. You could bet that the funds were coming from somewhere or the other.

Her last writings were on Earle Kirby. She had quite a bit done on him. She was also very interested in heritage, artefacts and archives.

She had a wonderful sense of humour. I promised never to take a special group anymore in my car to meetings, because as sure as the sun rises and sets, I would have to park my car when coming home. We would be laughing so much, the tears coming from my eyes would prevent me from seeing where I was going. I could not drive again until we had parked the car and laughed it out.

During her last week or two, she revived her class meeting at the church, and came around the church giving out the membership cards. She also delivered them to the homes of those who were not in church. For those who were shut in, she brought a basket of fruit. I suppose it was to say goodbye.

Lorna has been a part of my life. Goodbye, my friend Lorna, goodbye. May you rest in peace.

A friend said to me that these words came to her on Monday afternoon. “You will be looking for me, you will find me in the cemetery. I will not be there, I’m gone to the place where we all know. My death is for a purpose.”

What is that purpose? We are looking for it. In St. Vincent we need to change, as we cannot take the cruelty and violence any more. It is not Lorna’s death alone. Many more have suffered. St Vincent has changed. Young people, pull yourselves together. Don’t be in such a haste to kill. Listen, there is a voice, a small voice of calm that will speak to you. Listen.