Alethia's life story written by her children
May 4, 2021
by Lloye Dillon
Hark! ’tis the sound of trumpet … yea, a flourish and a choir of heavenly band. Hark, I hear a voice proclaiming, “Bring her hither, come up higher, welcome home. Take a rest my child. You have fought a good fight … you have finished the course.” What a cheerful vison of the heavenly welcome! What joyful anticipation of a coming grand reunion!
As we give thanks for the life of Alethia Helene Martin (nee Davis), let us remember her, let us celebrate her, let us eulogise her with joy and gladness.
Alethia Helene, aka Miss Girly, entered this world on June 20, 1930, a gift from God and the joy of her mother. We trace her step from Highgate, St. Mary where she was born, to Guy’s Hill, St, Catherine to which she relocated when she was not yet fully one year old.
We trace her transition to a new parental home, when at a young age she was left in the care of adoptive parents Cecil Christopher and Edna Reid. Her primary education at Wesleyan Elementary School ended pre-maturely due to the ill-health of her adoptive parents, and thus what was to become her life-long career in home making and home management began.
We trace her ‘coming-of-age’ when as a young adult, she met and fell in love with Hezekiah Martin (now deceased), whom she later married. She responded to God’s call on her life in the summer of 1963 and shortly thereafter was baptised and brought into the fellowship of Guy’s Hill Gospel Chapel.
We remember and give God thanks for her commitment and unstinting service behind the scenes, as she involved herself in the life of the church. Hers was the gift of helps, and so in addition to being regular and punctual in attendance, she would clean the sanctuary in preparation for Sunday services, help with the hospitality table on special occasions at church, host visiting speakers at her home and always contributed her much sought-after pot of rice and peas for Sunday school picnics.
As her children, we give God thanks for her undying love and commitment to her family. We remember mama as selfless and caring. Driven by her desire to provide for her children, she became an entrepreneur in her own right, as she very early took on the responsibility of supplementing the family budget by taking to the popular Linstead Market every Saturday to sell the excess produce from papa’s farm.
We give thanks for the rich spiritual legacy she has left us. She modelled for us what it means to be kind, honest, hardworking, to care for others, to love, to give and to share despite the paucity of our own means. Her life demonstrated to us that one did not need to have money to be happy.
Mama was not much of a talker and so she allowed the whip to speak! She certainly wholeheartedly drew her parenting skills from the proverb which admonished not to spare the rod and spoil the child. That was enough to make us walk the straight and narrow, and when we couldn’t, to devise all possible schemes to ensure our ‘nefarious’ deeds remained concealed.
Mama was never demonstrative in her affections. Never a hugger and a ‘I-love-you’ verbaliser, but we knew and felt her love. Love was mama always making sure we had enough to eat (even if she had to do without) and ensuring that we never went to bed hungry. Love was mama baking toto for supper on Sundays. Love was mama with a cup of homemade brew for head ache, belly ache or any other ailment that did not call for a doctor’s visit. Love was mama admonishing and warning us "if you caan tan and bun, cut an’ run". Love was mama waiting up to make sure we get home okay whenever we were out late. Love was mama shedding tears as she says goodbye to us after a visit.
Today, we eulogise and remember mama in a happy way, in a special way that goes like this:
Mama is a poem … irregular rhythms, no set rhyme scheme, free – and so allowed each of us to become ‘me’.
Mama is a song, a song of courage and determination that gives us inspiration in the midst of our own battles.
Mama is a flower … blooming in desert places; a Jasmine, exuding fragrance in times of darkness.
Mama is a stream … meandering gently, sometimes trickling underground but emerging with renewed vigour.
Mama is a poem, a song, a flower, a stream, but above all she is a model. She silently lived her faith out loud and has left etched in our minds the undying memory of a poor mother … an empty cupboard … an empty pot on the stove … and a God who showed up and provided right on time!
Mama transitioned peacefully on Sunday March 21, 2021 and has left us the greatest legacy a mother can give to her children - a spiritual heritage that will last for generations to come.
As we give thanks for the life of Alethia Helene Martin (nee Davis), let us remember her, let us celebrate her, let us eulogise her with joy and gladness.
Alethia Helene, aka Miss Girly, entered this world on June 20, 1930, a gift from God and the joy of her mother. We trace her step from Highgate, St. Mary where she was born, to Guy’s Hill, St, Catherine to which she relocated when she was not yet fully one year old.
We trace her transition to a new parental home, when at a young age she was left in the care of adoptive parents Cecil Christopher and Edna Reid. Her primary education at Wesleyan Elementary School ended pre-maturely due to the ill-health of her adoptive parents, and thus what was to become her life-long career in home making and home management began.
We trace her ‘coming-of-age’ when as a young adult, she met and fell in love with Hezekiah Martin (now deceased), whom she later married. She responded to God’s call on her life in the summer of 1963 and shortly thereafter was baptised and brought into the fellowship of Guy’s Hill Gospel Chapel.
We remember and give God thanks for her commitment and unstinting service behind the scenes, as she involved herself in the life of the church. Hers was the gift of helps, and so in addition to being regular and punctual in attendance, she would clean the sanctuary in preparation for Sunday services, help with the hospitality table on special occasions at church, host visiting speakers at her home and always contributed her much sought-after pot of rice and peas for Sunday school picnics.
As her children, we give God thanks for her undying love and commitment to her family. We remember mama as selfless and caring. Driven by her desire to provide for her children, she became an entrepreneur in her own right, as she very early took on the responsibility of supplementing the family budget by taking to the popular Linstead Market every Saturday to sell the excess produce from papa’s farm.
We give thanks for the rich spiritual legacy she has left us. She modelled for us what it means to be kind, honest, hardworking, to care for others, to love, to give and to share despite the paucity of our own means. Her life demonstrated to us that one did not need to have money to be happy.
Mama was not much of a talker and so she allowed the whip to speak! She certainly wholeheartedly drew her parenting skills from the proverb which admonished not to spare the rod and spoil the child. That was enough to make us walk the straight and narrow, and when we couldn’t, to devise all possible schemes to ensure our ‘nefarious’ deeds remained concealed.
Mama was never demonstrative in her affections. Never a hugger and a ‘I-love-you’ verbaliser, but we knew and felt her love. Love was mama always making sure we had enough to eat (even if she had to do without) and ensuring that we never went to bed hungry. Love was mama baking toto for supper on Sundays. Love was mama with a cup of homemade brew for head ache, belly ache or any other ailment that did not call for a doctor’s visit. Love was mama admonishing and warning us "if you caan tan and bun, cut an’ run". Love was mama waiting up to make sure we get home okay whenever we were out late. Love was mama shedding tears as she says goodbye to us after a visit.
Today, we eulogise and remember mama in a happy way, in a special way that goes like this:
Mama is a poem … irregular rhythms, no set rhyme scheme, free – and so allowed each of us to become ‘me’.
Mama is a song, a song of courage and determination that gives us inspiration in the midst of our own battles.
Mama is a flower … blooming in desert places; a Jasmine, exuding fragrance in times of darkness.
Mama is a stream … meandering gently, sometimes trickling underground but emerging with renewed vigour.
Mama is a poem, a song, a flower, a stream, but above all she is a model. She silently lived her faith out loud and has left etched in our minds the undying memory of a poor mother … an empty cupboard … an empty pot on the stove … and a God who showed up and provided right on time!
Mama transitioned peacefully on Sunday March 21, 2021 and has left us the greatest legacy a mother can give to her children - a spiritual heritage that will last for generations to come.